Shades of Gray
by silverquord
Summary: Orihime returns to Karakura to build back a nonexistent college fund&takes a job that could help her get back up.Unbeknownst to her,the job will cross her paths w someone very rare–a one in a million statistic.Will fate let her in on the statistical odds of what suspiciously looks like their ill fated destinies? progressive love Ulquihime AU,warning possible pairing
1. 00 Prologue The Call

**AN:** I've been traumatized by what happened to this possible pairing, but particularly watching/reading about Orihime, to the point that I could not get myself to watch reruns or read the manga without flinching. So I've decided to write a story that would redeem our orange haired heroine, as I don't believe she is as helpless as she is portrayed to be. Although this is my first fanfic, hopefully I can pull something out of the magician's hat and make this a worthy read for you.

I would like to point out that this is not in anyway related to a popular published book of a similar name, storyline or otherwise. There is a reason for the title, which would become clearer as the story progresses. The M rating is for character language and expletives. Additionally, just as a warning, I prefer to develop characters through chapters than make them immediately meet and fall in love at first sight. So if you are looking for that type of fanfic, well... sorry, but this is not it. ^_^

This is my take on what would happen if hollows and soul reapers did not exist, and everyone is, for better or worse, tragically or blessedly human. Angst, despair, conflict, humor, happiness, and everything in between. This is for all the ulquihime fans out there.

**For those who are starting this story, a warning of progressive development and other pairings aside from Ulquihime, before you go ahead with this fanfic. This is a love story, but... how should I say it. A love story, but not a typical romance story. I have a related announcement on this in my deviantart account, you may head there to read it.**

**Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo**

**Shades of Gray  
**

**Prologue: The Call  
**

* * *

It was a Wednesday, almost near the stroke of midnight.

It was a clean, functional well-lighted room. Several books were open, some of them on the veneered study table, and some sprawled on the floor, a few closed books piled up on both the single bed and the side table, all of them bookmarked with index flags of different colors and shapes. There were little brown laughing teddy bear flags, green cartoony snakes with its tongue stuck out, little pink sakura ends, funny orange long necked giraffes, yellow smiling stars. Various colored markers were littered on the said table, all of them uncapped, most of them looking like they have seen better days.

It was a girl's room, a bedroom, a residence, and more importantly, tonight, it was a serious study room. Very likely it was only one of a handful of rooms in the whole of university dormitories that was still awake at this late an hour. Which showed how much the occupant was dedicated in making sure that she got the grades she wanted – as high as possible, and hopefully, with enough hard work, even perfect.

Inoue Orihime was studying for an upcoming midterms exams for the coming Friday, and was idly twirling her pencil with her index and middle finger as she tried to recall the details of the textbook she was reading. It was a quiet night, a good night for reviewing. She had been at it since six in the evening, and was slowly, but surely, going through the each of the coverage of the upcoming exams. She didn't look tired, she didn't look bored, she didn't look stressed – if there was anything of exceptional interest, it was that her eyes held some sort of secret determination that was fueling her through the night. As she did the previous nights, for the past two weeks. Sometimes she hummed to herself, sometimes she mumbled, on occasion she would stand up and stretch her legs and neck, but she never took her eyes off from her textbook.

She was in the process of turning to the next page when her phone rang. The pencil in her hands slipped off her fingers and fell on the floor with a sharp crack, rolling itself in opposite directions trying to gain some sort of equilibrium on the bedroom floor. Orihime, on the other hand, reached for her phone.

"Hello?" She answered, wondering who could be calling her at this time of the night.

"May I speak to Inoue Orihime?" An unfamiliar voice replied.

"Yes, this is she, may I know who is calling?"

"This is calling from Karakura General Hospital Emergency Room. You were listed as next of kin for Inoue Sora. I'm sorry, miss, but your brother has been in an accident earlier. He is currently in surgery."

"I see…." Her heart thumped, wondering what kind of accident her brother got into.

She hesitated.

"May I find out what surgery he is in, and what is the status? I am currently out of Karakura, at Tokyo University, and I may need time to travel back."

"He was in a traffic accident earlier this evening, Miss, and a driver crashed into his car. He is currently under emergency surgery. I'm sorry, but we may need you urgently. There is a some chance that we may need to get your permission to perform a brain canal, as we suspect there may be swelling in his brain."

Less than five minutes later, the pencil had stopped rolling on the floor. The markers were still uncapped, and the books were still open, with the teddy bears flags still laughing, and the yellow stars smiling. It was still a well-lighted study room, but it didn't function as one anymore – The one important factor that made it what was, the occupant of the room, was no where to be found.

* * *

A few hours later, Inoue Orihime looked at her brother through the hospital windows, fragile and helpless, surrounded by disinfected walls and strapped to heart rate monitors and life support. His chest rises and falls, following the rhythm of the machine attached, wholly dependent on them. She stared on, mirroring the same helplessness, as she looked on, and waited. Waited for the time when he would come back and regain some semblance of consciousness.

* * *

"We found out from a standard blood test that Sora has chronic lymphocytic leukemia, Inoue-san, and already in the late stages. Normally it is not a concern, but the accident has severely affected his body, and his condition is not improving. Infection has set in, and his body is not healing fast enough."

She blankly looked up at Ishida Ryuuken, and knew that the worst hasn't been said, yet. She knew he was just waiting for her to come out of her stupor, waiting for her to inquire further, so he can pass on further details. She wasn't studying pre-medicine for nothing. But everything seemed like a dream. Like it was happening now, but it wasn't, later. Her head told her Ishida Ryuuken was trying to break it to her gently, but she already knew what he's implying. She also knew what lay ahead, and what the odds are for her brother's situation. And she was certain it was not very good. It really did feel like a dream.

But … she asks anyway.

"I understand… What options does he have?"

"Its good that he has regained consciousness a few hours ago and his faculties still intact. But with regards to leukemia, although he may be too weak to keep up with chemotherapy or radiotherapy treatments, it would still be my recommendation to try. It may give him fighting chance."

Yes, and a small one at that, she thought. But she kept the thought to herself. It would be rude to lash out her frustration at Ishida Ryuuken, he was only the bearer of unfortunate news. He didn't even need to be there – directors have more important things to do than attend to their son's friends.

Thankful, yes, she had to be thankful.

"Thank you, Ishida-san. If its ok with you, I would like to explain the situation with my brother first…"

* * *

"My dear sister, we seem to be getting all the luck in the world…"

Sora smiled weakly, giving her hands a slight squeeze. Her brother was pale, and shrunken - a far cry from her fond memories of him. Two months. Two months since the accident. It was already a miracle he lasted this long. But she didn't know if she should be thankful or not. Her brother looked so frail. But she looked at him and recognized the smile was always what it was – heartfelt with joy for his little sister. But even now she can also see those eyes fraught with apology.

She felt wetness in her eyes again. All she ever did was let the tears fall. What good is an education if you don't finish it at the right time to save the ones you love? She only had one family, one brother, and now its being taken away from her, too. Her only brother, Sora. Her only family. The only one that connected with her both by the heart that she gave, and he had given in return, and the blood that runs through both their veins.

She loved her brother. And he was lying at death's door, and was still apologizing to her. Nothing was more precious, and irreplaceable for her, than her brother Sora. She sobbed.

"Orihime-chan… please don't cry…"

Hearing his broken and dry voice, weak from unresponsive treatments that further eroded his body, opened the floodgates of helplessness she felt for both their lives. It wasn't fair. She knew life was never fair, and now, where was destiny leaving her this time? They were both already left abandoned by their abusive parents, and now destiny dictated that she was to be the one to carry on without him.

"Things are never as bad as you think they are. You're the real princess, my little sister. Not a trophy princess like in the fairy tales, destined to fall in love with the prince that sweeps you away… but a strong one that stories should have been made of, a strong one, with the right heart and a clear mind, one that weaves and wills her own story, spins the most majestic hand-woven cloth for the king of the heavens, and free to live and love as you please. We both know not all stories have to end in tragedy… up until recently, weren't we a testament of that?"

He smiled and strained to raise his hand feebly, and she carefully caught his halfway and held on. Yes, she knew where to place them.

When she was five, she cried all the way home when she heard her teachers tell the story of Tanabata. Orihime the Sky Princess, and the fate she was destined to live throughout her life separated from her true love, Hikoboshi, because they neglected their duties. It was only during the on the day of Tanabata, the seventh of the seventh month of every year, her father the emperor allows her to rejoin with her beloved. Everyone in her class thought it was wonderful and romantic, but Inoue Sora came home to find his little sister's tear streaked face, and swollen eyes, frightened to death in a corner, thinking to be punished and taken away from her brother.

So, he explained it the way he did, cradling his sister and quietly explaining to soothe his baby sister: It was a fate that Orihime and Hikoboshi had brought to themselves, absolving responsibility and angering her father for their short-sightedness. It was their destiny because they both made it so… their hearts, although true, were only selfish for each other, and their actions had caused them to shape their final destinies, as they had forgotten about the important balance of the heart and mind, not only for themselves, but also for other people.

Then he would quietly point out to Orihime that they were different – they were not Orihime and Hikoboshi of the Tanabata. The secret story of brother and sister Sora and Orihime was much more special, because even if they loved each other very much, and they never neglected their duties towards people around them. They stayed together because they had clear minds and more importantly, kind hearts. Sora always touched her heart then, to make sure his little sister would understand. They made their own destiny themselves, one that was unlike and could never be the same as the fates of Orihime and Hikoboshi.

Despite being without parents, they have grown up together in happiness as much as they could. Every time she was in doubt, Sora would see through his little sister's forced smiles, and gently raise his fingers and reach out for the area where the heart was. It was not her biological heart. It was her true heart he pointed and connected to. And she would feel better, always.

That is, … until now.

She carefully brought her brother's feeble hands, hands that have always reassured her in the past and always strong enough to move them on his own. _And now I have to do it myself_. She tenderly placed her brother's hands to her heart, acknowledging she understood.

Sora's done this many times before, to remind her of who she was, her strength, her destiny, but she knew this time will be the last. And she promised herself never to forget – because, that was what a strong willed Orihime in their secret story would do, the real Orihime that wove her own destiny the way she wanted it to.

She looked down at her hands enveloping his. _Yes, her heart_.

"Yes, little sister. You always had the right heart… a kind and determined one…"

Despite what others thought, she knew that she took on her brother. Both of them were souls that looked kindly with others.

She glanced up at her brother, seeing the apology still creased on his face. It was not because he was about to pass away, but because he was leaving her alone to fend for herself in the mess of reality that would be left behind. They were not well off, but they made do… but she also had to take a leave from school to handle everything. She was unfamiliar with them at first, but she was sure it was nothing she couldn't learn and take care of.

Wiping her tears aside, she gently curled up the tips of her lips and gave her brother a reassuring smile. He loved seeing his sister smile, that special warm, enveloping smile that came so naturally to her. She knew he loved seeing them because they never fail to stop him from following suit - he gave his own tender smile and unfailingly grabbed the tops of her orange mop of hair, and tugged her cheeks and let out a silly laugh. He at least tried to tug her cheeks now. He was still the brother, after all.

"I've already handled most the paperwork, brother. Everything is in order, don't worry. I can take care of myself. Please don't worry."

Sora nodded feebly.

"Its just that… I know I will miss you." her voice cracked as she held on to his warm hands for a little while longer. _Yes, please… a little while longer_, she wished.

"Don't worry, Hime-chan …. It will just be like I was away for a little while… like on a trip, that's all."

Thirty minutes later, the only thing that can be heard in the intensive care ward, were the absence of the humming machinations of the life support, and the sound of soft irregular sobs in between.

* * *

**AN: **Yes, I know Ulquiorra is not here yet. Its merely a prologue, after all :) He's obviously one of shining pieces of this story, so he's going to be around soon enough.

I'd be really happy if you could leave reviews and comments - I'd like to improve my writing to make this piece an enjoyable one for everybody, and your input would really be appreciated!


	2. 01 The Boulangerie

**AN: **Right off the bat: This is my first fanfic, and I am no expert writer. I'm not even a seasoned amateur writer. This is my first story, EVER.

Here's a little bit of warning: The story may be both heavy and light at the same time. The characters are slightly older, so I took the liberty of putting some backbone in them. There will be glimpses of what you find to be familiar, and both unfamiliar, as I tried to flesh out the main characters from the original manga, progressed their development, and added some of my own impressions, as you will see/have seen with Orihime. She was mostly used as a device for comic relief and part-empathy narrator, so we only saw limited aspects of her.

The overall story borders slightly on mystery genre, but I decided angst was more appropriate. Here's hoping you will enjoy both Ulquiorra and Orihime as I try to unfold them in the next few chapters, as I've written this fic with the approach that... well, other people don't know who they are :) We've read tons of fics that kept repeating "auburn tresses" (or even no mention of them at all) but I've incorporated these descriptions into the storyline. Ulquiorra will be slow on the uptake, but will gradually increase airtime once he's introduced properly.

Here we go. I feel like I'm going to be fried by ulquihime fans for this chapter. Try to remember I fleshed the characters out from the original manga... So please don't kill me. :)**  
**

**Disclaimer: Bleach and its characters are owned by Tite Kubo  
**

**Shades of Grey**

**Chapter 01: The Boulangerie  
**

* * *

"_Anatomy is destiny." _

_- Sigmund Freud_

* * *

Sometimes, the world moves at a slow pace, in a drab of gray akin to an impending storm of overhanging clouds moving across what others may see as a bustling, energetic city. On rare occasions, during times of anger, we get a glimpse of a burst of deep red, squirming its way at the edge of our vision, yet soon as it has made itself known, it will suddenly disappear, as if a figment of our imagination. On very extreme instances, we may experience harsh, blinding white, and the accompanying sensation of pain burning across vision.

But there was no white light. It was never real. There's only you, and on the opposite side, the rest of the world. That is a fact.

Face it. It is only in your head.

But it was what one knew. One time or another, it would have been familiar. One of many. But always the same.

And familiarity was a home. And homes are, for better or worse, important.

* * *

Today, Inoue Orihime was happy. She thought today was the one of the better days; the wind whipped, sending a few locks of her long, auburn tresses dancing playfully up in the air. The morning sun peeked and smiled, bringing a caress of warmth to the new day, and shy droplets of dew gave evidence to the cool night a few hours before. She breathed in deeply, taking in as much of the fragrant morning air as her lungs could handle.

She loved mornings, especially at the brink between twilight and dawn. It was also one of the reasons why she was bustling with an armful of French baguettes at what most people would agree, was an ungodly hour of six in the morning, in a bakery beside Karakura park that had great views of both sunrise and sunsets. In fact, she has already been at it for more than an hour. Working part-time in a traditional boulangerie was certainly a taxing job for most, requiring early working hours, but fortunately, not for her. She rather liked it.

It was cruel that some people seem to have it all, perfection, or even happiness in its most ecstatic form, and some even more than most. Maybe insanity played a part. Inoue Orihime was a typical example. How anyone could be so happy everyday getting up at four thirty in the morning, cycling in almost pitch black roads, arrive at a part time job at five, mess with large amounts of flour, transporting piping hot _boules_ and _pain de campagne_ up to the front of the shop, and yet do not have a smudge of mud on her knees, or droopy sleep-deprived eyes, or a fleck of flour anywhere on her when she started to brightly greet the patrons for the morning, was quite unholy. And to cap it off, she was a stunner.

Actually, there was an easy explanation for this: One, she liked breads to the nth degree and didn't mind waking up early to get a swipe or two of them while she was working. Two, she made sure she slept early, just right about at nine or ten in the evening, everyday during weekdays whenever possible, and three, she came to work in work clothes, then freshened up right before the bakery was due to open. Of course she was caked in flour. Everybody who worked with bread and dough would always get flour on them; they're constantly covered in a thin sheen of the white powder.

But this didn't explain the "stunner" part, though. That one was really luck. And, arguably, a set of good looking genes.

Orihime continued to lift the freshly baked breads to the counter. It was the counter of a small, inconspicuous French bakery called _Boulangerie__à Côté du Parc_ at the end of the prominent Karakura town square, just between the edge of the residential houses and the glitzy shopping and business district of the Karakura. Across it sat the eastern edge of district's main park, with a partial view of a small lake, and one of the best sunrise and sunset locations within city limits.

She worked hard at it. The girl was scurrying back and forth between kitchen and shop, making the most out of each journey to save time for something else that needs to be done for the morning. It was obviously a job that she took for her own pleasure. Being an additional hand in a bakery, was in reality, not really a money-earning tenure. But one afternoon in search for a proper job, still downtrodden from the loss of her brother a few days prior, she happened to pass by and caught a wonderful waft. She had been constantly in the hospital then, immersed in the familiar, permeating smell of disinfectant, and this scent was different - it smelled of warmth, and a promise of sweet and delicate things - and she gave in, following the scent of the small indulgence. Her destination then was where she stood now, the Boulangerie. She must've looked quite enthralled yet strange, standing there with her eyes closed, because she caught the eye of the elderly half French, half Japanese owner, and as they usually say, the rest is history.

She loved job, but even more, the scent. Whenever she had a whiff, she could see adzuki bean paste melting on top of the bread, red, sweet and nutty, oozing like butter. And she was given complimentary freshly baked loaves every morning, not to mention the occasional extra pastries, and the smell of hearth, a working stone oven. All in all, she rather liked the benefits.

Orihime prepared the tables outside in preparation for the busy day ahead. Many rush hour yuppies pass by to get a quick bite for their morning meals, but there was also the outdoor section of the small café for early risers who preferred to take their time, usually to enjoy the morning with a quiet breakfast, before all hell at their offices break loose. She made sure to take these tables out and have them laid properly to accommodate the usual patrons.

And then, she was done. She twisted the shop's sign to "Open" and spread the doors, as a few regular early patrons outside started filing in, setting the aroma lose on the outside world.

"Irasshai mae!" she said jubilantly, opening the Boulangerie with a smile. Yes, it was a good day.

* * *

Unfortunately, despite the tenancy of the young, vibrant orange haired girl to be positive and strong willed, she should've known better, if her past was any indication. Fate wasn't finished with her yet, not by a long shot. If there was anything that life offers the best, it would be that it throws loose screws the finest, at the most unexpected of times. Besides, nature abhors a vacuum, after all - there is no way everyday would be a mundane day if fate gets her way – and we know she always gets her way. So, unbeknowest to Inoue Orihime, fate decided to have a little fun by bringing in to Karakura the most abhorrent little package.

* * *

A man steps off the ledge of the _shinkansen_ platform of Karakura, and turns his head about. If there was any hint of emotion in his face, it was indiscernible. Viridian orbs slowly snake across the skyline, as if there was something repulsive to be seen, in stark contrast from the sunny day Inoue Orihime was so positively beaming at, at another part of Karakura town just moments ago.

* * *

_Two Hours later…_

"Ojii-san, all the batches for the morning is already out up front, and the rest of the sandwich fillings are ready and tucked up in the fridge," Orihime informed the elderly, heavy-set baker, "Is there anything else you'd like me to do?"

"Good, good. Do not worry, Orihime-chan, I'll manage by myself, go ahead and get your clothes changed, wouldn't want you to be late for work," he offered kindly, "I'll handle the front from here."

She gave a nod, removing her work apron and grabbed her duffel bag containing a different set of clothes, and ran to the back of the shop. Most of the times she helped out making sure the batches of breads were properly cooked and brought out in the morning, preparing the take away sandwiches and their fillings for morning rushers. When those were done, it was mostly handling customers in the front. Usually by nine, the number of customers dwindle down to a crawl, as most were usually in the offices by then. That was when she would usually approach bread owner and take her leave. It wasn't like this at the beginning, but all this change started last Monday.

She entered the storeroom and took out her clothes. Office clothes. She stared at them. Reminding her again why they were in her hands. She had a second job, a real nine-to-five job that started only last Monday. The office building was fortunately quite near where the bakery was, so she could stretch her work with Yamazaki-san as far as possible, when needed. But either case, she had to get to the second job within reasonable time.

It was part of the necessary sacrifice she had to make.

During the past months of her stay in the hospital, her brother's condition took most her time and the bills piled up quite quickly. In addition, there were expensive medical treatments, and with her brother incapacitated, and only Orihime around to take care of him, finances became a very pressing issue. The only source of money she had left were her own college funds, which she eventually took the plunge and dipped her hands into. It wasn't an easy decision for her. They were one of the few things her brother worked hard for, a gift, so Orihime could attend any university she wanted. But the bills crept up, and by the end, the whole ordeal wiped out a large chunk of her college fund. Now it was barely enough to pay for a year's tuition. That was when she decided that it was for the best to take a long leave of absence from school, place her degree on hold, and take up a job.

She didn't regret it, though. It was her choice. She will always have the time to earn the money back later, but she can never buy back the time to be with her brother. Her life, and school, can wait.

Her eyes took on a determined look.

Here she was now, almost in the same position as her brother, without a degree, working a real job in an unexpected age. Except she knew she had it easy. There was no one else to take care of - not that that was any consolation - and she didn't have to worry too much about a house. It was one of the other things her brother made sure of. Sora managed to purchase a simple place at the outskirts of Karakura. It was mortgaged, but the downpayment was already taken care of by her brother a long time ago, and the cost of the monthly payments were just about the same as renting a place. Orihime decided to keep it. She _wanted_ to. Her college savings have already virtually vanished, and she was not about to sell off another one of her brother's hard work just because she was short on cash. Both of them grew up there, and she wanted to make sure she had that, at least.

She carefully put on her attire, maneuvering herself in the cramped space to make sure she didn't bump into any flour bags. It wouldn't do to come into the office looking all white. Then she ensured her hair was pinned up correctly and no odd ends were sticking out.

It was a strange how a simple, uncomplicated thing like having a single, mutated cell could proliferate itself and lead up to her situation right now. She sighed and stepped out of the small stockroom.

* * *

"I'm all done, ojii-san," she announced, coming up to the elderly man, "I will be going ahead. I will come back and see you later in the afternoon. Please wait for me so I can help out with the tables."

"Orihime-chan, don't worry too much. There's no need for helping me close the shop, you're already a great help in the mornings," he smiled kindly.

"But that means I can't bag any leftovers, ojii-san," she joked. She didn't need to come back during late afternoons, actually. But she didn't want the older man to be carrying tables and chairs by himself when he retired at the end of the day. She didn't mind doting on the elderly man, she liked him.

"Take as much as you like, its no bother," he smiled, "You will be late for your work if you stay here much longer, Orihime-chan. Do not worry, I will take care of things!"

She took in the state of the bakery, her eyes going through the shelves of baguettes and quietly seated customers with their heads behind their morning newspapers, satisfied that everything that needed to be done for the morning had been accomplished. She nodded to Yamazaki, and began to take her leave. "Alright then," taking a step ahead.

"I will see you later ojii–- Whoops! Sorry!"

She felt herself bumping against something solid and wet, followed by a large pair of warm hands on her shoulders.

To her pleasant surprise, she found herself facing a familiar mop of orange.

"Kurosaki-kun!" She smiled, surprised at seeing her friend here, of all places.

Then Orihime made a face. Ichigo was drenched in sweat.

"Inoue, don't look at me like that, you collided into me first," Ichigo raised his hands in defense, a unconvincing looking scowl on his face.

That brought back an even bigger smile from Orihime. Ichigo's trademark scowl. The one he's always worn ever since the first day she met him. Now that's something she hasn't seen for a while.

_He still looks cute looking like that, almost like a pouting, spoiled child_. She suddenly became aware of her thoughts, causing a sensation of warmth to creep up on her face immediately. _Oh dear, this has gone for ages, I'm so hopeless! _She whined inwardly._ Haven't I gotten over this already?_ She cricked her nose at her thoughts. Her long running infatuation with the man in front of her. It been many hopeless years now, she kind of wanted to stop infatuating over him, but never actually successfully managed.

"Inoue? Hello?" Ichigo was waving a hand in front of her face.

Oh. It seems she blanked out. "Sorry, Kurosaki-kun, I was just a little spaced out."

"Yeah, I noticed. That's good. At least you're still the same since the last time we.. uhm, met," he said uncomfortably, realizing the awkwardness of his words.

The last time they met, was during her brother's funeral. Sora passed away, and she had made arrangements for his cremation and funeral. But she hadn't counted on the disappointingly small turnout of his friends. Sora was quiet and hardworking, and a good friend to those around him who had the blessing to have his company – and like his sister, he was kind and caring. But having to support both of them at a young age of eighteen was difficult for anyone; time was sparse and in between for office social calls and night outs. All he ever wished was everything for his little sister, so he worked hard and never had the chance of nurturing any other relationships. A mere handful of his colleagues from his office came, outside her own friends who dropped by – Ishida, Rukia Ichigo, Tatsuki, Chad. Her heart broke to find out, only during his funeral, exactly how much he had given up for her.

Ichigo cleared his throat nervously.

"Of course I'm still the same, Kurosaki-kun," she snapped out of her reverie and made an attempt to smile, while trying to brush aside the images that came up with his last comment. Somehow, it worked. "So what are you doing here?"

He pointed at himself, the front of his shirt drenched with sweat, "I was just coming down to get something to drink. I run, remember?"

She cricked her nose in false disgust, "Yes, Kurosaki-kun, I remember." She sniffed. "You smell awful."

He shrugged and gave her an apologetic smile.

"But I should ask you the same thing though, Inoue. You're working here?" he looked around curiously.

"Oh yes, I help out here in the mornings."

"Err.. You don't do the actual baking, do you?"

Strangely enough, he had a slightly incredulous, apprehensive look on his face.

_Huh, where did that come from?_ She wondered, confused. _I'm a good cook!_

"Of course I do!" She squinted her eyes, puffing up her chest, then pulling up her sleeves. An exaggerated pose was made in an attempt to show her non-existent biceps, giggling at the same time. "I even have baker's arms to prove it!"

He gawked, not quite catching the joke. Then he remembered who he was talking to. Inoue Orihime. Of course.

Ichigo chuckled.

Her stomach immediately turned into knots. Normal days may be bright and sunny, but Ichigo definitely made them glow a bit brighter. He always had those rare light-hearted moments, but since she had to stop studying last semester, chances of seeing him the way he was now has plunged to zero. And so her days were _just_ sunny. She realized how much she missed him. Him _and_ Ishida, a_nd _the rest of her friends. She sobered up at the thought.

"Alright, alright, I can those biceps of yours," he grinned and raised both hands in mock surrender, his constant scowl coming back in its rightful place again, and continued, "And to answer your earlier question, actually, that jerk Ishida and I just came back from Tokyo yesterday. He delayed it again, this time for a week – He was being anal about making last minute touches with another one of his pet-projects, so as usual, I ended up waiting for him." He put the cherry on top by rolling his eyes in surrender.

_Ishida Uryuu_. The other member of their tightly knit team, a long time friend, even far longer than her friendship with Ichigo. Because they were so close, all three of them usually came back for vacation breaks together. But Ishida always was a perfectionist, and she remembered him working on his thesis on a constant basis, usually dragging everyone's schedules behind a day or two. But she understood. Between the three of them, Ishida was the brilliant one, not that it was any surprise between friends. He did top their high school honors list upon graduation, but Karakura being a small town - a little too backward with a small population compared to cities from the rest of Japan - some people assumed that he would be considered average when he stepped into the Tokyo University – the crème de la crème of high achieving students all over the country. To the unbelievers' surprise and his close friends' expectation, he was an immediate shoo-in with the professors there.

What _was_ surprising was both her and Ichigo doing quite well. She took up Psychology, while Ichigo had Chemistry as his major. Not that they were well known, but from their professor's perspectives, they were definitely in the level of achieving students – of course, all the while, Ishida was the "exceptional" one. All three were gearing towards medical school, but split themselves on differing start points. Yet when electives year arrived, the three of them knew what they've always known - they would converge back again as if they've never been away from each other. All three jacked up on the same classes, spending a little more frequently than before in each other's company. And probably to Ichigo, a tad bit more frequently with Ishida than he would have preferred.

But she hadn't minded spending more time with the both of them, in fact, she was overjoyed. It was reminiscent of their middle school days back in Karakura.

It was out of everyone's expectations that she would do well; it was a fact that she was more hardworking than brilliant, but excel she did. She attributed it to great friends, and in a way, it was right: She would always excel when she feels right at home, and with both Ichigo and Ishida at her back, it's the closest she has to what would almost be what she would call home outside her brother Sora. And with Rukia, Chad, Tatsuki and Renji dropping by once in a while – it was even better. They always have been an inseparable group.

She missed those days. But this time, those past thoughts didn't stop her from smiling back. They were familiar, happy thoughts, even if they were not reality anymore. Reality was never a nuisance or a immovable stumbling block for her, not even up till this every moment. Merely stepping stones towards a better destination. That was the belief she told herself, at least.

Such was the mind of Inoue Orihime - pristine, determined, positive... yet so innocent. It was no wonder people usually tread their foot lightly around her. No one ever likes to be the one responsible for bursting a happy bubble, or revealing to a kid that Santa Claus did not exist, ever.

Of course, there are some who specifically liked bursting the bubbles of people like Orihime. These were universally and classically labelled as 'existentially mean'. And then there was another group that, frankly, didn't give a damn, as long as they got their breakfast as promptly as possible. Much like the man who was standing behind Ichigo, watching the two banter ridiculously as he waited in line. The man had a nine-thirty appointment, and these people were getting close to messing up his schedule for the day.

"Oh, yes!" She giggled, "I remember Ishida-kun's study on accelerating black mold growth – he was forever trying to get them thrive and multiply every night, until he finally got it right and the other lab students in the adjacent rooms started falling sick -"

She jumped as she heard a soft impatient noise behind Ichigo. An outline of someone behind Ichigo's tall frame, and start of what would potentially be a growing line, called for her urgent attention.

_Not the time for idle chit chat and reunions_. She looked at her watch. _I needed to go anyway._

"Why don't you go ahead and get your drink, Kurosaki-kun? I actually have another work to head off to, so I need to be off to get to my next job on time anyway."

She paused, as an afterthought came to mind. "Maybe we could meet up with Ishida-kun -"

To her dismay, another noise, in the form of a louder, much more exasperated grunt, was heard. Red seemed to be the color of the day, as her cheeks started to flame in embarrassment.

At this point, Ichigo had caught on to the growing, awkward situation. He turned his head irritatingly, looking down at someone behind him. "Hey, I'm almost done, alright? Just give me a second," he growled.

Orihime's cheeks continued to redden as she tried to back pedal quickly, wanting to avoid any sort of conflict. "Its alright, Kurosaki-kun, its not the customer's fault-"

Ichigo didn't give her any chance for an excuse, as he straightened himself to his full height of almost six feet, appearing far more threatening than normal. "Well, people should learn to be a bit more patient," he said loudly, making sure the person behind him clearly heard. Ichigo was very protective of his friends, and despite the fact that both he and Orihime were both at a fault for the small situation, she understood that it was his own way of being nice. He was making sure she was protected from any further embarrassment, assuming and bearing the brunt for the blame. Although she appreciated it, sometimes it did make her more self conscious than anything else.

Ichigo on the other hand, was more resolute. Satisfied at the non-existent response, he turned to her, wanting to finish up as quickly to avoid embarrassing Orihime further. She was working there, after all. "Anyway, I heard Rukia and Renji are coming at the end of this week, too. Byakuya's giving them both hell, as usual," he suddenly frowned at the thought, as if this irritated him, when he continued. "Anyway, why don't I give you a call later? You still have the same number, right?"

She nodded quickly in affirmation.

"Alright Inoue, I'll talk to you later, see what's up," he gave her a wave and went up to the counter.

Orihime lowered her bags to the floor, and although it was becoming quite late and should have been rushing to her next job, she instead stood her ground. Until she was out of the shop, she had a responsibility of catering to its customers, no exceptions. Not wanting to be any ruder by ignoring what had just transpired, Orihime bowed her head slightly as she waited, until she saw stern, black shoes, and a glimpse of dark pants. Shamefully, she slowly brought her head up to see an unfamiliar black-haired man sporting a tight, emotionless frown and the most vivid green eyes.

She knew everyone who passed by during her shift in the mornings personally, and this person definitely wasn't in her usual list. Inwardly, she sighed. _Oh dear, and a new customer, too. I hope I didn't give too much of a bad impression for ojii-san._

Gathering her meekest, most apologetic voice, she squarely looked at the dark haired man, slowly giving a very low bow of apology, making sure she held it for a second longer than normal to communicate her sincerity.

"_Moushiwake gozaimasen deshita_. I apologize for the delay and any inconvenience caused," she said formally. With her eyes still looking down, she carefully stepped back.

The silent man made no move to acknowledge her, or her apology.

She was crestfallen.

_But what's done is done._

Not wanting to keep anyone else waiting anymore, she hastily picked up her bag in embarrassment and hurried towards the exit in a run.

* * *

**AN: **Alrighty.. I promise its going to pick up more soon. I have a few favorite chapters already written, and I want to publish them, but they wouldn't make any sense without the chapters prior to them. Please be patient!

Feel free to review. To be honest, there were some parts that appear to be slightly choppy for me. Even with several round of revisions, to be honest, for the life of me I could not figure out how to revise them for a better flow. I'd appreciate it very much if you can leave your impressions. Any suggestions for improvement are definitely most welcome!**  
**


	3. 02 The Day Job

**AN: Been staring at this for weeks, and I can't stand it anymore, want the story to move, so I'm publishing this. Some movement, a bit of backstory, and more on who could be likely causing havoc into Orihime's life in the near future :) **

**Disclaimer: Bleach and all its characters belong to Tite Kubo  
**

**Shades of Gray**

**Chapter 02: The Day Job**

* * *

"_Be not diverted from your duty by any idle reflections the silly world may make upon you, for their censures are not in your power and should not be at all your concerns."_

_- Epictetus, Greek Stoic Philosopher_

* * *

_RII…IIII….IIIIIIIP!_

Orihime cringed as she heard the familiar sounds of prehistoric ink giving in to the natural laws of time and decay. She stared hopelessly at the two sheets of paper on her hands.

Documents. Files. Resumes that have been stored for so long, the printed inks stuck sheets together like glue, one after the other. When she tried to separate them, words were inadvertently transferred to the adjoining page's backside, making them impossibly unreadable as the printed material overlapped themselves with each other. All of which contained valuable employee data that she was expected to look into.

With a look of extreme patience, she carefully placed them on the small pile to her right that was depressingly small in contrast to the other one to her left. It was a big pile. No… not pile. Piles.

Orihime sighed as she looked at the sheets of paper covering her desk. She still had a lot of go through. Her desk was a microcosmic model of the cubicle she sat in, as boxes and boxes of employee files covered the floor. A few opened ones were littered here and there, giving the final effect of covering almost every square inch of the floor her small office workspace. That meant every morning for the past three days, she has had to maneuver herself to her office chair before she can get to the computer, not that she's used it very much. Her current predicament didn't give her the chance - aside from the earlier ink problem, the files themselves were terribly disorganized. Missing pages, most in random order, as if someone just stuck in resumes without bothering to check where it should actually be placed.

Only three days, and she's been stuck doing absolutely nothing except wade through a mountain full of uncorrelated, unorganized data spanning seven years worth of employee backgrounds for the company, Arrancar Corporation.

She knew the job paid well, but it wasn't exactly the kind of training or resume credential she would've preferred to show her psychology professors once she finally went back to school. She again looked sullenly at the dizzying array of papers she's going to have to go through, before she can even begin her analysis.

If only she can figure out which sheet of information corresponded to employees still residing in the company.

For now, she gave up. She decided to concentrate on something else equally as important. Her lunch.

Orihime forked them a bit more forcefully than necessary, as she sat eating alone in her desk. At least her burger steak with _shiro-miso_ based strawberry glaze and orange rind was keeping her company. There was no company to be had anywhere else. Her colleagues did not seem to actually eat during lunch breaks. Most of them were either not there, or they were still in their cubicles hanging around minding their businesses.

She took a sneak peek at the office across her, resided by her direct supervisor since three days ago, Szayel Aporro Granz. Wondering what odd man of his age would decide to actually dye his hair a bright, shocking pink. _MHmm.. Maybe he liked pink cotton candies a lot when he was a kid, and wanted to create his own version of Charlie's Chocolate Factory_. Her eyes narrowed. _And maybe … bake a lot of fruitcakes. Yes. Definitely. A LOT of them._ It certainly would fit his personality with his crazy idiosyncrasies, and this tendency to wear body hugging spandex turtlenecks of varying colors – white, pink, black.

She's been wholly ignored for the most part. Not a single one of the people in Syazel's floor had been even remotely interested in the appearance of a new colleague, and her attempts to befriend did not produce any reactions. Most of them looked disinterested, ignored her and went about their business.

Even with the current situation, she wanted to be at least _worthwhile_ in this job. Her interview seemed quite promising, at least, at the start. She was interviewed by a serious looking man by the name of Coyote Starrk. He nicely explained what the Arrancar Corporation was all about – a technology company heavily invested in developing innovative software tools for scientific and medical research – and communicated the fact that their human resources department needed help in managing their workforce development program. He further elaborated that since many of their employees were quite in the unsociable, introverted side of human spectrum – being "technology geeks" and such – his words, not hers - the top honchos of the company wanted to find a way to find a means to effectively develop aprogram that would make working together more effective.

It wasn't clinical psychology at its best, but she wasn't about to be picky. She was at a serious disadvantage lacking an undergraduate degree. A job in a clinical setting would have been preferred, but interns usually required an ongoing masteral degree – which she clearly did not have.

While all her other job applications were turned down, it seemed that for some strange reason, Arrancar _did_ offer her the job. The pay Arrancar Corporation offered was so significant, that it would cover the monthly mortgage for the house and still leave some for restoring her college savings. More surprisingly,she initially thought the company would make adjustments appropriately based on her education level, but so far she knew, they did not adjust their original salary offer, and the pay was up par with someone who may actually have an undergraduate degree.

And now here she was, being an 'assistant' for Syazel Apporo Granz who managed the human resources department, as well as the technology research development, and biological research & development. And likely a few others that she may not know about.

She was flippant about this fact, because she found out on the first day of work, that there was no formal human resources department for this division of Arrancar Corporation here in Karakura. It was merely Syazel, and her. Or to put it more candidly, just her. Hence the boxes that filled up her cubicle.

_There must be a better way of doing this_, she chewed her lunch in frustration, still staring at the small pile on her desk, _It could take weeks to get everything organized.  
_

She mentally shuddered at the thought.

* * *

Yesterday, she tried to approach the task from a different angle, a break of sorts from the tedious task. Instead of going through mounds of papers, she decided to try observing the people around the office. Maybe she could start with Syazel's own team. So her eyes roamed for a possible candidate, just see if it was a feasible approach. If it was, it could be far better than going through all the papers in her cubicle.

The first one that caught her eye was a very young looking blond-haired man. She thought that he looked much like a hippie. She opened a clean notebook and started jotting down observations.

_Subject Number One: Young blond man, appearance of a child, violet eyes. Sits two cubicles away from my own desk._

He was quietly concentrated on his monitor, typing away. Then all of a sudden he went wide-eyed and started to screech, "AAAaaaAAAHHHHH" for five minutes straight. After which, the noise ceased, and the man continued typing as if there was no interruption.

_Vocally challenged. Possibly critical of his own work. Easily bothered. _

She continued to observe the young man for another thirty minutes. It was like watching a still - nothing happened. She read her notes. It was not much to work with.

For thirty more minutes, the situation remained at an impasse until she noticed a second man, wearing a deep blue conical hat with yellow stars sprinkled, like a rendition of Van Gogh's Starry Night, gliding merrily along the aisles and straight to her subject.

She turned a page.

_Subject Number Two: Tall man.  
_

She stopped. And slowly wrote:

_In blue wizard hat with stars. Carrying a large shocking green vuvuzela. _ She hesitated. _Very happy?_

The strange man settled himself beside her subject, smiling quite widely as he hung outside her subject's cubicle. The tall man placed the instrument on his lips, and took a deep breath. He loudly blew the vuvuzela against the blond man's ears. This went on for almost two whole minutes.

The young man didn't even blink. After which subject number two started to laugh.

She crossed out her last comment. _May like to play pranks. Has excellent lung capacity. _She went to subject number one again, and wrote: _Entirely unaffected by external environs. _

The man in the conical hat took off his cap and continued his mirth. Then he turned to her direction, and ... .

She thought he winked at her, but she couldn't be sure. His eyes were slits, and she couldn't tell whether they were open, or if he could even see anything, at all. The man left the floor via the elevator lifts, whistling, ironically, the song "Whistle a Happy Tune."

Then she wrote _Silver haired man_, thought for a moment, then wrote in the word in all caps, _STRANGE_.

For the rest of the day, other than the occasional screeching, she had not heard anything else from subject number one. He didn't seem to be capable of saying anything else. She scrapped off social. She will have to get his name, and find out his file.

She stared at the notes she's written on her first two subjects. One day, and only two strange subjects. And she didn't even know who they are.

No. This is not going to work. This was hopeless. So she wrote:

_Experiment Outcome: BACK TO THE DRAWING BOARD._

* * *

She uncapped her home made red bean paste, and spread it liberally on her _onigiri_. She resolved to setting aside her frustration and trying to figure out how to get things started.

So far, the normal person she's met in this whole building – called Las Noches, was her interviewer, Starrk Coyote, but she hasn't seen a wink of him after her interview. On the very first day she was immediately ushered in by the receptionist, a huge man called Yammy, and then she was immediately brought to her supervisor Szayel.

_S_he shifted the pile for the umpteenth time. This is supposed to be a glowing day. She looked at one of her free pastries from the boulangerie, a white macadamia muffin from this morning, and remembered her run in with Ichigo.

Out of everyone of her friends, she missed him the most. That can't be helped, though. When more than half your life you've been with and always looking up to a particular someone, its bound to fan infatuation. He had a permanent scowl, but to her it was constant endearing quality. He also took on the responsibility of protecting people he cared about a little too much. Maybe it was because he was the eldest and had two little sisters to take care of. She knew the humorous psychological term for it – a hero complex – but books and theories didn't stop her from breaking away from her remote objectivity and admitting to herself how she _really_ felt about him. She let her emotions get in the way too much.

Thoughts aside, reality beckoned. Things still need to be taken care of, bills to pay, and she had to finish piles and piles of paper to go through. She picked out another handful of papers, determined to finish organizing them as soon as possible so she could at least get to the bulk and meat of her work. After all, one has to start somewhere – and in this case, start from the top of the pile and work her way all the way to the bottom. She knew Rome wasn't made in a day.

* * *

"What do you want now, you stupid woman?" her pink haired male supervisor asked irritably.

Inoue tried her best to be cheery in front of her supervisor. Despite being tasked with coming up with a 'holistic' program to promote team cooperativeness, it was depressing to realize that, so far, the only direct relationship she had in the whole company, wasn't doing so well.

"Well, Granz-san, I was wondering if you have a full listing of all the higher management, and their corresponding departments and responsibilities," she supplied.

He just stood there and tapped his left feet with impatience, waiting for what was likely to be a valid explanation for her request.

"I thought leaders and managers would be a good start. Studies show that role models are likely to have far reaching and long term impact on changes that the company was looking for. And it would be easier also to concentrate on a few key people to analyze," she elaborated further.

Syazel was apparently in a terribly grim mood. He still had his arms crossed, and was asking for more from her. She searched her head for words, and finally settled to simplifying her idea into a single sentence.

"Leaders shape the company culture?" she tried to add helpfully.

Orihime observed carefully as Syazel uncrossed his arms. It seemed like he was satisfied with it and she thought that she would finally get what she wanted without any more of his sharp and caustic comments. She's been getting them for a while, and it didn't make her feel all that good.

Her relief, however, was short-lived.

"I hardly think that being the official 'company counselor' will help in anything this wretched company. And let me add, being a counselor is not even a scientific or professional endeavor by any means," Szayel added scathingly. "Unlike mine. I have two doctorates and three PHds. I don't need an insolent girl, much less someone who does not have an undergraduate degree, to bother me everytime!"

Inoue shut her eyes and tried to count to ten. That stung. Her supervisor's rudeness was usually tolerable, but now it was downright hurtful. She disliked being reminded of anything related to her current situation now, and being reminded of the non-existence of a degree was one of them.

She tried to make herself feel better by making note in her head to pass by the ice cream shop downstairs after work. _Maybe I could get both wasabi and pistachio ice cream, and mix them together, that would be a good combination_, she thought to herself hopefully.

She heard his furious steps as he walked back to his office, and the noise of shuffling paper. She opened her eyes and dared herself to see what was happening. The thin, bespectacled man quickly came out again holding something in his hands.

"Here." A thin file folder was rudely thrown at her desk. "Those are the managers working in Karakura, including their respective teams. Good luck trying figure them out!" and slammed his door on her.

Not to be discouraged, she approached her desk and started to pick up the folder when Szayel popped his head out again. She gave a startled jump.

"And keep away from my office! I don't want any of your antics and stupid female wiles to mess up any of my ongoing experiments!"

She sighed and turned back to her cubicle. She was bored with no one to talk to. Her supervisor didn't really count as engaging conversationalist material. But at least now she had something to work with. She stared at the folder in her hands.

She scanned the two sheets of paper inside. She glanced at the first page :

* * *

_**Board of Directors**_

Sosuke Aizen (President)

Ichimaru Gin (CFO)

_**Major Technology Development Teams**_

_**Team One : Coyote Starrk / Lilynette Gingerbuck**_

_**Team Two : Baraggan Louisenbairn**_

_Charlotte Chuhlhourne_

_Abirama Redder_

_Findor Calius_

_Choe Neng Foww_

_Nirgge Paruoc_

_Ggio Vega_

_**Team Three : Tia Harribel**_

_Emilou Apacci_

_Franceska Mila Rose_

_Cyan Sung-Sun_

_**Team Four (Special Projects): Ulquiorra Cifer**_

_**Team Five : Nnoitra Gilga**_

_Tesra Lindocruz_

_**Team Six : Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez**_

_Shawlong Kufang_

_Edrad Liones_

_Nakeem Grindina_

_Di Roy Rinker_

_Yylfordt Granz_

_**Research and Development **_

_** Syazel Apporo Granz**_

_Shawlong Kufang_

_Edrad Liones_

* * *

She recognized her interviewer's name at the top of the list under _Major Development_. So Starrk was a team head developer. Why in the world would a developer interview a human resource trainee candidate was beyond her, but despite that, he seemed knowledgeable and responsible. She supposed he was more looking into her character – most companies do, for new hires and fresh graduates.

She remembered Starrk explaining on the structure of the company. It was what they called flat hierarchy - mostly made up of teams that directly reported to top level directors. The team numbers were in the order of experience of the project managers and somewhat indirectly, the length of their tenure in the company, and judging by her meeting with Coyote Starrk, it was probably accurate. From her first impressions, he was calm and responsible.

This meant that the first few team managers should be more mature in handling their responsibilities. There were outside rumors that the company had a handful of _colorful _employees, though she couldn't say which ones just by looking at the piece of paper she was holding on to.

She would start from the bottom team, making sure to handle potentially less experienced colleagues. That meant Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, who was at end of the organizational chart. She noticed that Grimmjow was handling quite a large team, compared to others. She decided she would look into his profile first, at least, once she's managed to find it from the mounds of piles on her desk.

Yes, she'd need time to dig into them. But at least, for once, she had a direction. She was excited that she may actually have the chance to begin her analysis.

Six major development teams, a scientific department, and three major board of directors. She did a double take – is that five or six development teams? Five of them all had at least comprised at least two working members, except for the one unit that seemed to indicate only comprised of one member – _odd_, she thought. She took a closer look at the team, labeled "Team 4, Special Projects" which indicated someone called Ulquiorra Cifer.

She thought for a moment. Then, seeing that the person was in the middle of the team hierarchy, she finally decided that this point may not be as urgent. All the same, she marked the name down with a question mark, making sure she look into it at a later time.

She tapped her pen thoughtfully. It might be a good idea to personally meet all the project heads to see first hand how they really are and make a better assessment of the situation. Besides, she was getting tired of spending her time alone. Getting to meet and interact with people was much more fun. She smiled. She can even make the food for a party.

But she still needed to find their files. No photos were attached to the organizational chart, so she was still clueless on what they looked like. She'll have to go through the boxes again, but this time, she had names to look out for. Her mind latched on to the fleeting but self appointed "ingenious" thought, and started to make a skeleton draft for an attack plan, promptly forgetting her earlier promise to herself for a pistachio-wasabi ice cream after office.

* * *

"You're working WHERE?" Ichigo sputtered, his beer spraying everywhere.

Inoue looked at her friend in askance.

"Arrancar Corporation," she said mildly, confused at her friend's outburst. "They actually have a Healthcare IT Systems division here in Karakura," she added helpfully.

His amber orbs widened, disbelief at her cluelessness. "I heard from my dad they're a bunch of eccentric crazies over there, Inoue!"

"Well… so far the ones I've met _are_ somewhat strange…" she agreed, looking up thoughtfully and tapping her chin.

"Look, look… listen to me, Inoue. You just got in to the job four days ago, right? You can still resign from the job without any penalty, its standard in most employment contracts!"

"But Kurosaki-kun…"

"You know that billion dollar search engine company in the US? Or that company that makes those popular hand held phones worldwide? They hire smart people, right? Well the people at Arrancar and smart and creative alright, but more importantly, people who are also strange and psychologically unstable end up getting jobs in Arrancar, even more so in THAT division, especially here in Karakura! Their equipments are good, but the I heard the local representatives who show up at our clinic's doorstep are insane! If I don't know any better, they have their own lab to _breed _and _culture _misfits over there!" Ichigo explained frantically.

He pointed to the man sitting beside him. "I mean, that's why my dad gets his hand-me-down medical equipments from Ishida's dad instead, … and that's saying a LOT!" He pointed at a tight-faced Ishida Uryuu. He looked mildly annoyed at Kurosaki's insinuation.

"Kurosaki, I've already told you several times, leave our father's dealings with each other out of the conversation. She's not a bit interested in that. Stop acting like a five year-old brat. "

Ichigo sputtered in indignation. "Ishida, YOU—! I was not acting like a five-year old, you .. you –"

Amidst his temperamental friend's growing string of expletives, Ishida ignored the comment, and waving his hand to dismiss the man who was now sputtering in indignation. Ishida turned to Orihime.

"Inoue-san, ignore Kurosaki's last comment. He is merely a witless one-celled evolutionary miss," Ishida scathingly declared. This offhand remark earned another growl from the spikey man on the other side of the table. Ishida checked back on Ichigo. His drinking 'buddy' was furiously red.

Ishida pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose, and turned back to Orihime, looking rather serious than how he usually is.

"Regardless, Inoue-san, Kurosaki does have a valid point. The people at Arrancar, I don't think they are THAT bad, but rumors usually do have some truth in them… If you decide to resign this week, you don't have to worry about a job, I can get you recommendations in my father's place if you need the job and experience, no problems. "

Inoue looked from Ishida concerned look to Ichigo's flaming red face, unsure what to say to them. Although she did seriously consider submitting a resume to Ishida Ryuuken's Karakura District Hospital, sure that she would find an available trainee position, she had also to consider the pay. By itself the pay was not as good. On the plus side, there was a very good chance she could earn better working experience and credential. But she was slightly uneasy to be accepted, not knowing if she was accepted merely because she was good friends with the Hospital Director's son. Money wasn't a comfortable topic for her to discuss, being the primary reason for her current situation right now, and bargaining salaries with her friends parents was something she prefer to avoid. It always was no good to mix business with friends.

But the main reason was that Karakura District Hospital had been her imposed 'home' for two whole months. She didn't want to come back so soon, it reminded her too much of Sora.

She blabbered the first excuse that came to her head.

"Ah.. Hahaha. Ishida-kun. I don't like coming to hospitals too often. The ventilation is always regulated, and disinfectants pumped in the air at regular intervals and all... They make my skin dry and wrinkly," she held up her hands to her face, trying to convince the two men in front of her how much she cared about her looks.

Which was actually quite humorous, because until three months ago, she was working hard for a medical degree. Whoever heard of an aspiring doctor that did not like to work in hospitals? Both men had their mouths agape at the explanation provided by their ex-premed aspiring friend.

"Besides," she added in a small voice, "your father is _scary, _Ishida-kun."

Ichigo laughed. "She does have a point! Your dad is scary as hell, Ishida! And I wouldn't want him to be in surgery with any of my sisters while he's holding those scapels of his!"

"And I wouldn't trust my body with your father, Kurosaki," he retorted coldly.

Ishida turned back to Inoue, his eyes showing cautious concern for her.

"Inoue-san," Ishida said, "are you sure about this? My father is…" he paused, "… really nice, honest. Its really no bother or effort at all. And you don't really have to work with him, he's always at meetings," he added quickly.

"Its… its alright, Ishida-kun!" She forced herself to smile brightly. In fact, she did hear about the employees at Arrancar, and she was slightly worried at the start, toying with the idea with initial hesitation, but she met Starrk, and he seemed quite normal. Besides, she tended to think on the bright side. What better way to learn, than to handle get into the thick of things – jump into a company that had rumors of its employees being labeled as misfits. If she pulled this job off successfully, it would be a good credential to her resume – that is, provided that she did find a way to get her colleagues into a different mindset.

Anyway, if there was anything to describe Inoue Orihime, it was her determination to find the good out of everyone. Ishida Uryuu may be the technically proficient perfectionist, Kurosaki Ichigo may be the obsessively brash, life-saving hero, but out of the three, she was the one who believed that good or bad, the playing field was always level. There were no wrongs that couldn't be made right with time, even with misfits. Her preconceptions of people were wide and very open. She was the Psychology major, after all. She handled matters of the mind.

No big deal, right?

* * *

**AN: That's exactly right, Orihime. *mischievous giggle* **

**And Gin makes his appearance. He's one of my favorite characters :) Maybe one day I will get around to write a fanfic about him. But Ulquiorra first, cause I like him the most! Hmm... What is it with me and characters who are already... ahem, not in action?  
**

**Please drop me a note or feedback, would love to get comments and reviews on your impressions :) Thanks!  
**


	4. 03 An Adventure of Great Heights

**AN:** I'd like to think this chapter as moderately action packed, rofl. A surprisingly long chapter, but I felt everything is necessary :) Here we go!

**Disclaimer: Bleach and its characters are owned by Tite Kubo**

**Shades of Gray**

**Chapter 03: An Adventure of Great Heights  
**

* * *

_"Fear doesn't exist anywhere except in the mind."_

_- Dale Carnegie, __American Writer, Lecturer_

* * *

He stared outside, looking at the overcast skies that would be forecasting an impending downpour in the next few hours. The drapes were drawn, and the living room was giving ominous angles of creeping shadows, against the already minute receding light from the windows. He closed his eyes. The whites were glaring in the contrast, and the sweep of familiar static noise began to seep into his ears, causing an almost uncomfortable, shrill, high pitched ringing, much like the soundless noise one hears in an empty, well-padded, upholstered grand theater before a monumental musical performance. They swallow any foreign sounds whole, and in the aftermath, leaving a thin, white, high-pitched static noise that drowned everything else. Like the pitch of steel grinding slowly against steel. He can almost taste the maddening rusted, metallic sensation.

He opened his eyes.

_Refuge._

The door was heard being shut, leaving the world of madness of the living room behind.

* * *

Inoue wasn't really sure she was up to indoor gym climbing, but tried to make do. Apparently, after her last semester in _Todai_, Ichigo started to regularly make his way to the local indoor climbing gym. He was simply giddy over it, and who was she to turn down what he wanted? She figured she could at least give it a try and see what it was all about.

By weekend, everyone was back for the semester breaks, so Ichigo invited Tatsuki, Chad and begrudingly, Ishida to the local gym. Renji and Rukia, whom were now already working for her brother Byakuya, regularly come back to Karakura during their semester breaks. They have occasionally met for climbing back in Tokyo when she left school, and since Orihime had been away, she was the only beginner in the whole group. This had her a bit worried.

"Tatsuki-chan, are you sure it is alright?"

"Don't worry about it Orihime. It's a beginner's course, there shouldn't be any problems for you. You can consider following Rukia's path. Since she's shorter, she'll be selecting handholds that are closer. That would make it easier to handle for you since you're taller and have a longer reach."

Orihime glanced towards Rukia a few feet away, who was already getting ready for her ascent. She could see Ichigo checking her safety belts to make sure everything is order.

"Besides, there's the person who is acting as your belayer, too," Tatsuki added, "It's like insurance. In case you do lose your grip, the person will be there to keep you up, since he's holding tighly on your rope for leverage."

"Ok…" she answered uncertainly as she looked up the thirty foot wall in front of her.

Tatsuki noticed Orihime's uneasiness. She also noticed it when her friend glanced at Ichigo and Rukia. There was not much she could do in that department, but she could at least address the first concern - she could tell most of the time when her friend didn't feel comfortable. "Here, let me check your harness for you first." Tatsuki reached out and inspected Orihime's gear, then glanced at the knots to make sure the rope was tied correctly and securely to her.

Orihime glanced down worriedly as her friend continued to examine her. "Have you done this before Tatsuki?"

"Yeah, a few times. I'm not an expert though. I just climb for fun. I've seen people who are quite good at it though." She searched for a second and pointed at a group of people on the other side of the gym. A couple of them were laughing and looked like they were attempting to work out a problem. They would climb on the low wall, but instead of going up, they kept jumping to catch a hold that was about three feet to their left. It must have been difficult because they kept failing to grasp that particular hold, and fell repeatedly on their backs. "See those guys? They're doing something called bouldering. You can see the course they're working on is low, so there's no need for belayers. It's safer, but see how the wall slopes outward to a hanging edge and then spider across a low ceiling?"

Orihime nodded, her eyes widening at the realization that the ceiling had holds themselves.

"They have to do difficult maneuvers as well as follow a certain order of holds to go through the course. The course is sloping, and at times climbers need to be upside down when in the ceiling. Experts usually need to have very good upper body strength, flexibility and control. And contrary to what you may think, a lot of it involves an extreme amount of concentration and thinking."

"Did you try bouldering too?"

Tatsuki laughed. "A couple of times for easy ones, but I sucked at it. I just do it for fun, really. I couldn't get myself properly around with some of the holds. My fingers are no good. At the very least, you need to have strong fingers to actually climb the harder courses over there."

"But I don't think my fingers are good enough, Tatsuki…"

Tatsuki looked back at her friend. "Don't worry, Orihime. Ours are on a beginners course, so the hand holds used are bigger, and easier to grasp." She gave a reassuring smile at Orihime. Tatsuki approached a nearby wall and closed her hand into a protrusion on it. It looked more like a misshaped oversized door handle. "See? Easy. Give it a try."

Orihime wrapped her hands around the hand hold, trying feel the grainy, rough texture to get some form of familiarity, some security. She decided that it didn't seem too bad. She just needed to be more familiar with them.

"I mean, seriously Orihime, you climbed trees when we were younger, I've seen you do it. It's not really that different." She pinched Orihime's cheeks, "And being calm also helps. So loosen up, there's nothing to worry about."

"Its just that, the trees I climb are not this tall… I see them everyday, they're friends..."

Her friend lightly laughed at Orihime's words. "I swear, Orihime, one day you're going to turn into an elf. Don't worry, these are your friends too. They're a bit more artificial, but I'm sure its nothing you can't handle. Plus we'll be working to act as a belayer for you. You don't have those when you climb your tree friends," she grinned.

"When you say it like that, well..," she paused, and decided. "I think I can make it work," she stated more confidently.

"Good girl. Just remember to keep calm and your head clear. If you lose a hold, it's impossible for you to fall to the ground with us around. So just concentrate on having fun. Tell you what, I'll take care of you on the first few rounds, would that make you feel better?"

She threw her hands and hugged her friend tightly. "Oh, thank you Tatsuki! I'd really like that!"

"No problem, Orihime. Here, lets watch how Rukia does. She starting now."

They watched as Rukia climbed up the course. She was actually quite good, looking more athletic and flexible than how she normally looked. Orihime envied her. Rukia made anything look so easy, even when they weren't.

Tatsuki stood and extended her hands to Orihime.

"Here Orihime, how about you give it a try. I'll be your belayer."

She nodded.

Orihime had a few initial setbacks, on one or two occasions losing her hold, but Tatsuki made do on her promise to keep Orihime safe. When she slipped, Tatsuki was on the ground holding on to her end of the rope, making sure Orihime gently hung in mid-air. Orihime thought the sensation was exhilarating as she swayed left and right. After two to three climbs, she felt more reassured of her safety, and her apprehensions gradually disappeared. After a while, she excitedly went with everyone as all of them slowly finished one course after another. It was different for her, but it didn't matter. She was really enjoying herself.

* * *

Orihime also had the chance to work at the opposite end of the rope, as a belayer. Her first was with Rukia, since the nimble footed, diminutive girl was a lot lighter than most of them, and therefore, Ichigo explained, much easier to handle. He was currently showing her the basics of belaying while Rukia climbed slowly.

"Alright, Inoue, when Rukia climbs up, these ropes here are going to slacken," Ichigo was standing closely beside her, holding on to the top rope that started to loosely hang against his hands. They were tied in one end on Rukia's harness, while the other end was attached to Orihime's own, through a device called a belay. Ichigo explained that it helped create friction on the rope that would make it harder to retract when it slipped.

"You want to make sure that the top rope is always nice and tight. That way, in case Rukia looses her grip, she doesn't free fall on the length of the loose rope. The shorter the loose rope, the better. You got that?"

She nodded. She was protecting Rukia, her turn to make sure that should Rukia slip, she would also hang solidly in mid-air, instead of free falling. It was an important job to be careful.

To her surprise, instead of explaining the steps verbally, Ichigo instead grabbed her hands. "Here, I'll let you hold on to this, and guide you." He placed her tiny hands on the spot he was holding earlier, then positioned his hands on top of hers.

They were large and warm against her own small ones. She was suddenly a bit self-conscious on how close Ichigo was to her.

Ichigo tightened his grip over her hands and carefully they pulled in line. "So, pulling the top rope in takes care of the slackness. You want to continuously pull it towards you as your climber goes up." Ichigo turned at her. "But remember, always keep an eye on your climber so you don't pull in too much and make them lose their balance."

She gave her head an affirmative shake. She was feeling a bit of hotness in her cheeks, and would be better if she didn't speak - she didn't think she was going to be in a condition to talk at the moment.

"So, with your other hands, you want to run the length of what you pulled from the top rope, through the belay device attached to you." Ichigo grasped her other hand, placing them on the bottom rope, and both of them began to do what was a rhythmic, smooth motion of pulling it slightly outwards, then in a downward stroke. Each time Rukia climbed higher, both their hands and arms continued the process again with a smooth, swinging motion.

At this point, he had both his warm hands over hers, and was curled up against her back in an almost embrace. Oblivious, he continued to move her hands, as Orihime further sank into a rosier blush. She tried to follow his instructions and make sure to keep an eye on Rukia, but somehow, Ichigo with his whole length enveloping her, was very distracting.

She glanced at her friends who had earlier decided to take a short break to watch Rukia and Orihime. Ishida was standing a few feet away, and had grim, pointed look on his face. Tatsuki, on the other hand, was hiding a humorous snicker with one of her hands. Wanting to avoid any more embarrassment from her spectators, she self-consciously turned her head away from them. Then she made the mistake of looking at Ichigo, whose face, she discovered, was a mere inches away from hers. She jumped in surprise, her heart rate shooting up by leaps and bounds.

He continued to move her hands and arms in a steady beat several times, completely unaware of what was happening, "You usually do both of them at right about the same time. An inward stoke with the left hand, an outward pull with your right," he continued on, "and then with the same right hand, a pull down movement to lock the rope in place."

He continued to guide her hands a few more tries, their hands rocking back and forth in a smooth motion.

"Its almost like dancing. There's a set rhythm to it. Once you get the hang of it, you know you can be a good belayer." She could feel her cheeks burning red-hot in embarrassment. Orihime now looked like an apple.

"Just make sure you always have your eye on your climber, and your left hand always downward. If its not, there will be less friction and the whole rope could slip if your climber falls," he warned. Sensing that Orihime was following through with his examples, he released her hands and took a step back to let her do the belaying herself.

That's when he finally noticed the state she was in. Orihime's face had evolved to a surprising shade of beet red.

"Inoue, what's wrong?" he asked in panic, "You're all red! Was that too much effort for you?" He quickly grabbed both her hands again, startling Orihime further, causing her to jump. Her face felt as though they were in flames.

By this time, Tatsuki was literally on her knees and holding on to her stomach with silent laughter. Orihime pouted at her best friend, wishing Tatsuki could at least be a bit subtler. Tatsuki was quite aware of her infatuation with Ichigo, and at times, she suspected that her friend enjoyed seeing her going red when things like these happened. Ishida was always with her, so it was a good bet that he also knew what was bothering her - and he still had that grim expression on.

Orihime turned to answer Ichigo, but was still too flustered to talk. Thankfully, Ishida swept up the awkward question for her.

"Inoue-san is fine, Kurosaki," Ishida responded acidly at the oblivious man, "She knows how to be a belayer. She just needs a bit more space to practice without you doing it all for her."

"Oh, alright," he released his hands from hers again, taking a step back. "You're going to be alright, right, Inoue?"

She managed to nod to Ichigo. He gave her a thumbs up.

She tried to recall and do the motions Ichigo showed her, pulling the top rope as Rukia continued to climb. She made sure to pull down the other line to lock the belay, in case of a fall. It was actually easy and simple to do. She glanced back at Ichigo, who was still standing behind her. She wanted to make sure it was being done right. He nodded with his usual scowl when he saw her glance back at him.

He always had a scowl, but despite the scary facade which frightened her the first time she met him, she eventually realized that he was one of the nicest people she's met.

Orihime's infatuation went on as far back as she could remember. She loved living life, wishing for many lifetimes so she could have enough time to try out so many new things in the world. But she always imagined that for all those lifetimes, the one thing that would be constant was having Ichigo in it. She left that thought a long time ago, when she noticed how much more different and attentive, how much better, he became when Rukia was around, but that still didn't stop her from having all these embarrassing situations. He had been a part of her secret, wishful life – letting go of something you believed in your heart was perfect isn't ever easy.

* * *

Orihime had been resolutely trying to figure out how to get on the next ledge. She was making good progress with Renji holding on to her from below, acting as her belayer, since Tatsuki was climbing herself as well, with Chad on the ground. She heaved and pulled herself up to the ledge, inching in what she embarrassingly thought may be the slowest ever ascent for a standard course in indoor climbing. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she concentrated on going up the next.

"Resolve!" she thought, and pushed herself up.

Without warning, she heard Renji give a sharp yelp below. She was suddenly catapulted upwards, the unexpected motion violently ripping her hands away from the holds she was supporting herself onto. Her body lurched and was flung in several directions. And in an infinite instant, a sharp jerk held her in mid-air, pausing like a suspenseful thought, a slow, graceful upward arc that promised itself to the eternal laws of physics. In a split second, it fulfilled its promise: She felt herself falling down.

_NO!_

Instincts took over as she frantically tried to grab on to anything she could hold on to. Desperate hands caught two hand holds, and in a fortunate twist of fate, her left feet landed on something with a large thud. Her right feet, on the other hand, wasn't as lucky, finding only only empty air. Out of balance, she started to tip over to her right.

In a blink of an eye, she took in the wall before her, natural adrenaline rapidly pumping through her body, momentarily galvanizing her acute senses: Straight ahead, albeit somewhat far but still reachable from her trajectory tip over, was a small protrusion. Gripping madly at the current three points of contact that secured herself to the wall, she pulled at whatever flexibility she had in her arsenal, and stretched her right leg and feet unlike any she's ever done before in her life. She continued to tip over towards the small foot hold, and a moment later, she managed to land her toes on it.

Safe for now, but that didn't quite stack up as well as she thought. Better, but not by a lot. She was now in a position where her toes sat at the very edges of two footholds.

"Inoue, don't move!" she heard Ichigo suddenly hollering below as she tried to adjust her footing, "Belay off, belay off! The carbiner's loose!"

"INOUE, WHATEVER YOU DO, DON'T LET GO!"

She heard Ichigo's unusual frantic and desperate tone. Suddenly a cold chill swept up her spine.

Moments ago, she acted on instinct. But her instinct already knew far ahead what she was realizing just now: the support ropes attached to her harness was completely lifeless.

No tension.

Fear welled up inside her. The tense ropes gave a sense of security when she climbed from hold to hold, but now that they were slack, she felt awkwardly wobbly and out of balance. She desperately willed her arms to grip as tightly as they could.

Her hands were not the problem. They were holding on to reasonably distanced and large hand holds, making them easy to clamp down with all five of her fingers, but her legs were another matter. Her right feet was at a very awkward position, the distance between both her feet so wide that they threatened to slip and pull her down with gravity in a gymnastic split position. They were also unbelievably small, that only her toes made contact.

She forced the tips of her toes to push her weight against the two impromptu foot holds that were barely keeping her up.

In short, she was stretched out too much with her legs, an unnatural and dangerous position to be in.

Now more than ever, it was important that she find a better spot for her feet quickly. She frantically glanced around. The only one was to three feet to her left, but it was a three step action to get there. But her fear had caught up, and she didn't dare release her hands, nor would she push herself up with her feet at their current condition. Her arms are hanging for dear life. Her legs frantically tried to keep an impossible state of equilibrium. There was no way she could manage it.

She heard more shouting at the fringes of her hearing, but it felt muffled and too far away. The insistent thudding on her forehead filled her ears, her thundering chest wildly pumping blood into all of her system. Panic reigned as she held onto the hand holds in a death grip.

Her right foot was slowly slipping. Her eyes frantically shot downwards. Twenty feet. Extremely messy, and probably an instantaneous death from spinal fracture_. _A land on the head would split skulls wide open, like runny yolk leaking out from a broken egg that fell from great height. Upright, leg bones would snap in two.

Her legs were starting to shake. She gulped.

She attempted to fumble her right foot again, just to keep it from slipping away from edge. She moaned, her arms were already in pain and fire from bringing up her body. Fear filled every fibre of her being.

_When I meant living many lifetimes, I didn't mean for one of those lifetimes to be THIS short! And I didn't even have the chance to try out all the flavors from the ice cream shop across the street!_

She could only hope that the people on the floor would get the belay fixed so she doesn't plunge to the ground when her arms reached their utter limit. She held on as tightly as she could.

She wanted to feel secure. She wanted to feel safe. She wanted to be back at home sipping brewed tea and maybe, watching TV. But even after that short thought, the ropes she hoped to become tense again, were still not tensing up.

Orihime Inoue: Lucky to have stunner genes, unlucky to be dead at arguably the peak of her youth.

She was almost at the brink. She closed her eyes in fear as she felt legs shake uncontrollably, and she gripped her hands harder. Her legs were wobbly, and no amount of resolve would reinstate the control over her legs. They were now a life of their own. She was going to slip.

And if her feet slipped, there was no way her arms would be able to support her own weight for anything more than the two seconds before she fell.

She gritted her teeth.

_If only she landed somewhere else instead of this spot she was in._

_If only she was a bit taller._

_If only the footholds weren't so far apart._

Tears formed at the slits of her closed eyes.

_If only..._

Her fingers clung in desperation.

_If only..._

She felt her right foot slip a bit further._  
_

_If only someone would save her.  
_

_She didn't want to die yet!_

_Help me, Kurosaki-kun!  
_

...

...

...

She was startled when she felt fingers wrap around her wrist.

Her eyes snapped open, expecting to see the amber ones, but was met with emerald eyes instead.

They were looking down at her in a stone frozen glare.

"You will bring yourself to that hold," the cold eyes swayed to a small protrusion to her left, about three feet from her left hand. The same one she wanted to climb onto earlier, but was almost impossible in her state. It implied she pull herself up with only her arms, and she was in no position to do that at all. She was barely holding on with both hands.

She shut her eyes and frantically moved her head from side to side.

She thought she heard a soft, resigned sigh. Then she suddenly felt panic again as the fingers clamped down on her wrists firmly in a vice like grip. Her arm was pulled up violently, feeling the excruciating pain of her shoulder joint being almost ripped off its sockets, and for the second time today, she was jerked forcefully upwards together with the rest of her body. She felt her left foot land on something soft, while her left palm felt rough graininess. Her head was swirling in disorientation.

"Hold," she heard the stern command repeated again.

She opened her eyes in surprise to see the grain texture she felt with her eyes closed was in fact the hold the man referred to earlier, only a finger curl away. She grabbed on, using the sudden balance on both feet to push herself up. She remembered barely standing on to those foot holds earlier. What was she standing on now?

She quickly glanced down and got a surprising answer to her question.

It was on the man's knee.

And right above it, there was a long potential foot hold that was three times the length of what she was standing on earlier.

She hesitated.

"Up," another curt order came.

Her eyes widened, realizing what he was about to do.

"Mister, wait! –"

Before she could prepare herself, the man already nudged his knee up, causing her to lurch upwards, her thoughts in a mass of confusion as she rolled forward and pulled around like a rag doll.

She was momentarily stunned as she fell with an uncomfortable thud, her knee caps in sharp, excruciating pain. Orihime was suddenly angry, really angry. She was about to climb on the foothold herself when the man just took matters into his own hands. This was her life he was playing at. She started to turn to meet the man head-on, when sense finally overcame to her head. She realized that there was no strain anymore on her legs. She looked down instead. The balls of her feet were on the wide protrusion on the wall.

_Safe._

She stopped. She was safe. A much better and comfortable position than just a few seconds ago. Now with both her hands and feet, stable._She was safe!_

"It will be fixed it in a second," the man's low voice vibrated with as much emotion as a paper plate.

She turned to the voice. Her eyes widened. Both of them were twenty feet off ground, and the man was without a harness. When she got over her initial surprise, she then realized that he was in one of the more awkward looking, yet impressive positions she's seen. His left hand languidly hanging on a very small pinch hold, his body leaning as far away from the wall as possible. The left feet was resting on another small protrusion, even smaller than what she was earlier standing on, and the same knee she had jumped off from was solidly planted against bare wall. All the while, the other hand still wrapped on her own wrists. Despite this, he had a look of effortless ease, looking solid and calm, hanging as if there was no imminent danger of dropping twenty feet below, even without a semblance of any safety equipment on him. He merely looked like someone who came from off the streets and just crashed into the gym, wearing casual beige chinos and a blue off color shirt.

A thought struck her, as she suddenly realized this was the same man she encountered a few days ago at the boulangerie.

She opened her mouth to thank him, but nothing came. Her ragged, desperate breaths earlier had caused her throat to dry up exponentially and robbed her of her voice.

His fingertips slowly loosened their grip around hers, and for a moment after, he merely stared at her. The eyes. They were the same ones as the unconcerned, unacknowledging look she remembered back in the boulangerie. She didn't notice it then, but there was a slight furrowing of his brows, and the green orbs took on a strange appearance she couldn't put her finger on. It unsettled her. But before she could figure it any further, the man turned his head away, wordlessly did a quick, graceful push on the opposing wall, and began to ascend deftly as if nothing abnormal happened.

Under normal circumstances, a thank you was in order. She knew she was safe, but her heart was still palpitating from being jerked around. The safety ropes were still slack, and she'd rather not waste any energy shouting, just to thank the man. Instead, she just held on for dear life, a little more securely this time than a few minutes ago, and waited. And true to the man's word, she suddenly felt the line go taut again.

"BELAY ON!" she heard Ichigo shout a second later, instead of getting the usual call from Renji. She thought it was one of the sweetest she words she will ever remember as long as she lived. _Several lifetimes inclusive_, she decided.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Finally.

She clutched the holds a little less tightly, feeling the overwhelming comfort she felt in a truly safe state again. Her vision cleared, and gave herself a chance to look about. She could not find her other savior.

"Inoue! Are you ok?" She glanced down, seeing everyone surrounded by Ichigo, who had now taken over as her belayer. Renji was lying on the ground behind them, being looked over by Ishida. It was Rukia who asked.

"Yes, I'm fine, Kuchiki-san!" She shouted back.

"Do you want to come down instead, Orihime?" It was Tatsuki.

"It's ok… I think I'd like to finish this first!"

Silent pause from the crowd below as they looked at each other.

"Are you sure?" she heard Ichigo ask.

"I'll be fine!"

"Alright. I'll work with you on this, Inoue, take your time. Everything's going to be ok," Ichigo shouted back. He looked serious and determined.

Security in place and in a better placement to grab the opposing hold, she went up.

* * *

Orihime had already calmed enough once she finished the course, with Ichigo slowly lowering her down to the safety of the ground, away from gravity's reach. She had to pause for a bit though. When her foot hit floor, he came over to her in a rush, quickly untying her fixed rope from her harness as if they were a bomb waiting to go off, and then suddenly giving her a huge, tight hug.

Surprised, but this time not wordless, she embraced back and patted him reassuringly. "Its okay, Kurosaki-kun, it's not your fault. I'm fine thanks to you..." She knew he was guilt ridden, he always was. She felt him nodding his head.

Once he let go of her, Orihime had to put up hearing murderous screams as Ichigo threatened their tattooed friend for being exceptionally careless.

"Renji you idiot! What the hell were you thinking!"

She glanced away from the shouting session to see Tatsuki running up to her. Ishida was trailing behind.

"Are you alright, Orihime?" Tatsuki asked.

"I'm fine… I think I just need to calm down for a bit."

"Yeah, I think you should." She glanced over at Ichigo, who was still shouting at Renji. "It's not entirely Renji's fault you know. Some kids were running back to the lockers and caused him to slip. Ichigo was furious 'cause Renji didn't double check the knot and carbiner, and it slipped off when it happened."

"Its fine, Tatsuki. I don't blame anyone. It's not Abarai-kun's fault... These things happen..."

"Well, at least you're lucky someone really good was here to grab you before you lost your grip," she looked around, "Actually, where is the guy?"

"I'm not sure, he just left immediately once he got me safely standing…"

"Oh. I thought maybe that was a pick up line of sorts," she laughed, "You should've seen him Orihime, he was fast. When Ichigo shouted, the guy was twenty feet away, over at the bouldering section. He actually got to you without stepping on the floor, which was actually much faster. That is, provided you can traverse the ceiling." She pointed her fingers up, "He pretty much climbed and jumped all the way."

"Oh I didn't notice…"

"Well you shouldn't have. If you did, I would be hitting you on the head right about now for not concentrating on making sure you live," Tatsuki chided.

Orihime smiled at Tatsuki's joke.

"It was amazing to watch though. You'd think he was made to scale walls, the way he was going. We were all panicking, when I saw him coming down from above really fast. At least I knew someone would get to you in time before we got the belay fixed. Seriously, I mean, it took him less time to get to you, than for Ichigo to fix the belay device."

Orihime just smiled at her friend. Her head was in a rush. She kept silent as she tried to recover herself.

"Are you ok Inoue-san?"

Ishida. She glanced up at him. He looked worried.

"I'm fine, Ishida-kun. Just that after all that adrenaline rush, I feel a little faint now." He nodded, understanding her situation.

Then out of the blue, Tatsuki asked a wildly out-of-topic question.

"Was he cute?"

"Tatsuki-chan… What kind of question is that?" she rubbed her forehead. "To be honest, I don't really remember."

"Alright, just calm down then. Don't let me bother you." She grinned, "I just thought from afar, he looked kinda cute."

Orhime continued to massage her head.

After a while, she went with Tatsuki around the gym, trying to find the missing man, hoping to thank him. They both searched around, but he couldn't be found anywhere. So they approached Ichigo for help, and he lead them to the organizer of the gym.

"Sorry, I don't know. He just came up today and flashed his rock climbing certification," the organizer said.

"What's a rock climbing certification?" Orihime asked the organizer they were speaking to.

"Its an internationally recognized certification among rock climbers. They're qualified to guide others through big outdoor wall climbs and remote terrain. It was pretty impressive to have one pop up here, actually. Most of us have local certificates, but not the one he has. Having those meant you could mountain climb almost anywhere in the world."

"Wow, that's pretty impressive," exclaimed Ichigo.

"I told you he was good, Orihime."

"That's all well and good, Sir, but by any chance did you get his name?" she asked politely.

"Sorry, no Miss. It was some sort of foreign name, but I couldn't remember. Probably a tourist. Normally we'd have him check in the books, but there was a lot of hard raining today, and the place was packed. Also people tend to surround someone like him once they find out about thecertificate. People who have them usually have climbed very difficult walls in Europe and North America, which we don't get too often here, and people would constantly ask them for tips on trails outside the country. But actually in the end, he didn't look like he wanted company, so we left him on his own."

"Oh. Well, I just wanted to thank him personally, but that's ok..." She was disappointed. Orihime didn't like to be unable to express her gratitude, especially ones that saved her from being splattered all over the floor.

"Maybe we'll see him again when we come back here, Orihime. I'm sure there are chances like that, especially since we know he has the certification. He must like climbing a lot to have that," Tatsuki pointed.

She nodded. She wanted to thank the person who held her up during the incident, but as she tried to remember the man, no face came to her, and couldn't quite recall details of what he looked like in her frantic state. All she did remember were the strange look of those vivid green eyes, the black hair and a quiet, low humming voice. She didn't think he was cute - in fact, the more apt first impression for her was that the man appeared different, as if there was something off about him. But looking around and up the course itself, she could not find anyone matching that description. It seems that she'll have to thank him some other time. She'd hopefully recognize the person when she saw him again.

* * *

"So how's the new job coming along, Orihime?"

Orihime turned to eye her companions while they sat around after their indoor climb. Ichigo had already exhausted himself and forgiven Renji, had decided they unwind at a nearby local joint. They were both was lazying around, a little away from Ishida, Ichigo having gotten sick of Ishida's company for the past few months and was looking for change. He spent grueling months being stuck with the bespectacled man at the university, day in and day out. Instead, the two redheads were handling their beers and slapping each others backs in amusement. Ishida, on the other hand, was quietly at one side, listening into their conversation. Rukia and Tatsuki were sitting beside her when Tatsuki posed the question.

She sighed. As for the office, nothing has gone ahead so far out of her plans. There was hardly anything to start with except for the list of manager she got from her supervisor Syazel, and she's not seen a wink of him since she started last Monday. She tried to rummage through the boxes in her cubicle, but she couldn't find a single one of the files that she needed.

"It's been very slow this week. I haven't had a single idea that was not shot down by my supervisor."

She filled them both in on how she had asked Syazel to setup an introduction meeting, but no amount of convincing had any reaction. She had tried to arrange herself to attend a project meeting, noticing that it took almost two hours last week before her supervisor came back from the project meeting last Friday. However way she went, she was blatantly refused by Syazel, saying that it was no place for a new hire. Working with Syazel was hopeless.

"Inoue, forget about your supervisor and see if you can organize something yourself. You could give team building a try. Since Renji and I started out at my brother's place, we've had a couple of them. It was quite fun. Sometimes, its half a day, whole day, or even a weekend. If you're the organizer and at the sidelines, it would be a great opportunity to see how people act with each other outside work, " Rukia offered, "Some people are naturally competitive but don't like their work insulted directly. This is just one way of getting outside it without hurting anyone's egos." She smirked and looked at Renji.

"Why not? Sounds like a good idea, Orihime. You could try setting up a mini Karate tournament. That would be so awesome. I can help!" Tatsuki offered.

"Hey Renji. Do you remember any past team building sessions?" Rukia asked.

"Oh, we had that off site team building trip last year. Go-kart racing, " Renji supplied.

"Wow that sounds fun," Ichigo responded.

Orihime thought it over, but admitted to herself that it could be stretching things a bit. "But that would cost a lot of money… I'm not sure if Arrancar would give me that much of a budget…"

"Well, it is worth a shot. You could always ask if in doubt. A lot of companies assign big budgets to get their employees working together and having fun. The fact that they hired you, means they're more than willing to do that." Rukia pointed out.

"Rukia, not everyone has money like your brother…" Ichigo's eyes rolled, "and I doubt he wanted people to have fun. He probably invested in that to make everyone suffer. Always as stuck up as ever, all high and mighty…"

"Nii-sama does not!" Rukia took a swipe at Ichigo's head, a resounding slap as her palms connected with his orange head.

"Byakuya sure did spend a lot of money to paint me, that's for sure." Ichigo complained. Ichigo tagged along for fun during one of the company's team building sessions, specifically paintball. The objective was to paint others, but ended up with paint all over him instead. Courtesy of the elder Kuchiki's perfect aim. He was clearly already down, but Byakuya still continued to barrage with him blue paint. Anyone would think he had only one opponent. And a non-employee at that, since Ichigo just piggy backed with Renji.

_That DEFINITELY was NOT for team building purposes_, he thought grimly, recalling each resounding smack that hit him, one after the other.

"I could ask Rangiku for her past team building projects, Orihime. You remember Rangiku, right? She's working in human resources for the company." Rukia pulled out her blackberry and started to type away a message.

Both Rukia and Renji were working at Soul Society Corporation, where Rukia's brother lead a large division of the company. Renji was ahead several years of her, and Rukia officially came in only last year when she graduated from her business management degree.

"But first off, you need to convince a higher up. Your supervisor doesn't sound very promising or supportive at all." Her friend Tatsuki pointed out.

Orihime thought hard. Tatsuki was right, Syazel certainly wasn't helping. She's barely done anything the whole week, most of them being rebuffed by him. She hasn't been introduced to anyone, and office was getting pretty frustrating, to say the least. Then she remembered Starrk. He had to be in the office somewhere, wouldn't he? It was him who delivered the idea in her interview in the first place, so maybe he could at least give some sort of nudge to the right direction. Except she didn't know which floor he worked in.

Or… she could try approaching the silver haired Chief Financial Officer, Gin Ichimaru. She remembered him passing by several times this week. She found out who he was after Syazel ended up shouting Gin's name when the silver haired man came around a few days after, this time sneakily carrying a box of colorful test tubes into Syazel's office. There was a small explosion inside, and a moment later Ichimaru was quickly running out, and looking back... probably admiring his masterpiece. Syazel came out with yellow splattered mostly on his hair, cursing.

Admittedly, Ichimaru didn't sound too right in the head, but if he handed the finances, he may be the right person to ask.

"There is the Chief Financial Officer… he passes by almost every other day by my floor, I think…"

Ishida spoke up, putting his beer down. "Inoue-san, I think you should try to get some idea how everyone is first. Maybe meeting them all in one go could be too much for you. Just get a feel on what kind of people they are."

Orihime gave her friend a smile. She was thinking along those exact same lines. Orihime could always count on her bespectacled friend, they would usually think along the same lines. Although he was always quiet, he was also quite thoughtful. Knowing each other for a decade does help. They were both in the sewing club together in high school, and the time she spent in his company showed her that bookish habits aside, he can also be quite analytical and creative at the same time.

Ichigo was brash, but Ishida was the complete opposite.

"Have you met anyone of them yet?" he politely asked.

"No, just my supervisor, and the CFO."

"Then you'll have to also introduce yourself. It seems your supervisor is quite undependable, from your stories. Since you mentioned the CFO, maybe you can get more info on the others from him?"

"I was thinking the same thing, but I can hardly come up and introduce myself out of the blue…"

"Coffee is always good," Rukia supplied, "Usually new hires would get introduced, and in the first paycheck, it's customary that you treat your coworkers with something small."

"Yeah, nothing is more welcoming than a freebie!" Renji added enthusiastically.

"Please Renji, you take double helpings all the time." Rukia rolled her eyes.

Orihime had done many part time jobs to help out with her brother during school summers, but that usually amounted to spending them with her friends or some extra money to treat her brother on a night out, or get a nice gift for his birthday. Summer and part time jobs had pays that were okay for personal expenses, but not sufficient enough that it would cover extraneous expenses like treating colleagues or paying mortagages.

Rukia's earlier suggestion to treat her colleagues was an entirely different thing. It was a actually revelation. To be honest, she had not thought about it too much before, but it suddenly occurred to her that her job at Arrancar Corporation was a real, honest-to-goodness job – it was a blue collar job that would earn her money by herself. It could potentially make herself more independent. It would pay for the bills, and with a bit of a juggle, it would also cover the mortgage. In hindsight, she was quite lucky. They offered her a salary that was up par with real working people. In many ways, she was soon going to be independent once she received her first paycheck.

And then just as suddenly, she felt guilt. She remembered her brother. Of all those years, she's never felt this type of independence before. She helped out in her own way with the house bills, many times giving her paycheck to her brother, but after seeing all the expenses after her brother's passing, she realized her part time jobs were pale comparisons against their living expenses. She realized how much her brother had tried to keep a bubble of happiness for her. She suddenly missed him. She wanted to ask him how he felt then. Did he feel the same way as she did now when he got his first real job, a job that would take care of both him, and his little sister?

Tatsuki, having caught on with the idea, seemed agreeable with this plan. She knew that Orihime hadn't had her first paycheck yet, but she wanted her friend to be able to work a way around this. It would bother Orihime if she lent her money for this, but she knew the next best thing. She thought it was perfect.

"Orihime, didn't you work part time in that bakery across the park? It would be good for Yamazaki to get a good promotion for his place anyway. You could offer them some of the stuff you sell there. I'm sure he wouldn't mind giving you a few discounted coffees and breads if it meant more customers to his list."

"Hey, you work there too?" Renji asked.

"Yes. I like smelling baked breads early in the morning. The owner was kind enough to hire me."

"Aren't you working a little too much?"

Orihime laughed. "Actually not enough, Abarai-kun!"

"No one could say no to you Orihime. They serve nice stuff over at that place, I haven't been there in ages!" Rukia said.

She glanced at Rukia and nodded. Despite being traditionally raised by her brother Byakuya, Rukia also appreciated western food. Breads in particular. Both of them had the same liking.

Ishida rounded up a summary. "So, that's plan a draft for team building, get the CFO to agree, find all the potential participants and offer them free coffee to ease up the communications and build an initial rapport, and finally, make adjustments on the team building draft to suit everyone involved. That sounds like a good plan. Inoue-san, I think you may have something there."

She looked at Ishida, and smiled. Yes, that was a good plan. And she was getting more and more excited by the day. She can't wait to finally meet her colleagues.

* * *

**AN: **(1) Todai - abbreviation for Tokyo University

Oh dear, how I flinch so when Orihime says "Help me Kurosaki-kun!" *shiver* Ichigo is being dense (as usual), but at least... Ulquiorra's back. It was important to know Ulquiorra's climbing proficiency, because there will be some funnies on it in the later chapters :)

Review and leave me a message, yes? I especially need to know how you guys went through with this chapter, and how I did, since its littered with climbing concepts. Thank you!


	5. 04 The Meeting

**AN:** I know the story may look slow for the pairing at the moment, especially the start of the story immediately dealing with a one sided Ichihime. There are several running threads to this story that I'm holding onto, but I promise it is all related to both Ulquiorra and Orihime in due time. Sora himself plays a vital role, the same reason why I decided the prologue to be mainly about Sora and Orihime instead. *grin* Hey, no one said life was simple. :) Just keep in mind that Ulquiorra is driving this forward, whether he is or isn't in the chapters. His character is the most indispensable part of the story.

If there was anything I am sorry for, it's that I didn't write well enough to keep you guys entertained/engrossed through incidents that did not seem to concern the ulquihime, and even in cases, causing confusion (e.g. *scratch head* or ...maybe worse, "how the heck is this %$# chapter related to ulquihime?!"). For that, I apologize. _Sumimasen. *bows in apology*_ I will try to write better, I hope you can keep your inputs coming so I know what I can adjust with future chapters!_  
_

Alright, enough talk, more writing. I think this chapter should not disappoint :) Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: Bleach and its characters are owned by Tite Kubo**

**Shades Of Gray**

**Chapter 04: The Meeting**

* * *

"_In politics, nothing happens by accident. If it happens, you can bet it was planned that way."_

_- Franklin D. Roosevelt, American President  
_

* * *

Orihime fidgeted in her seat, waiting nervously for the tall, lanky silver haired man to pop into Syazel's seventh floor. She had spent the whole weekend trying to figure out how to approach the chief financial officer, finally conceding that there was no one else more appropriate for the task. Her wait didn't take long.

Gin showed up, right after nine, walking leisurely across the floor, this time with handyman's tool box in his hands. She quickly jumped to her feet, ready to get his attention before he managed to start whatever he was planning; She knew by now, catching him _after_ he's accomplished whatever he intended to do was not possible - it usually involved either the man escaping directly towards the lifts, or a stealthy sneak out using the emergency stair cases.

She stood from her cubicle and waved her hands about to grab his attention. The man managed to pause, smile that mischievous grin of his and gave her a small wave back, but still kept walking towards an unknown destination. She frantically motioned her hands at him again, then raised six of her secret weapons, a small tray of six assorted, delicately frosted cupcakes she managed to bring from the boulangerie, balancing them on the top of her head, making sure he saw.

She got his attention. He stopped midstride and quickly changed his course, now going straight to her cubicle. _Good, as planned. _She breathed deeply._ Here I go.  
_

She put up her best smile as Gin walked up to her. _  
_

"'ello little lady. Are ya bribin' me with all these?" He smiled and reached up, plucking a vanilla cupcake with mascarpone and cheese cream frosting with strawberries on top from her tray, "They're a capital offense in some parts of the world, ya know." She looked on as Gin dipped his fingers into the cream and stuck them into his mouth for a taste test. He eyed her sanguinely. "On da other hand, there are still many parts of da world dat view gifts as a sign of honest appreciation an' respect. Hope yer willin to part wit em, gonna hafta kidnap these from ya."

"How about a trade instead?" she smiled, inching just a small step away from him, to keep his hands off the tray on her head. She had a good idea how the chief financial officer enjoyed spending his time, finding him pulling one prank after another just within the first week in her job. He was playful, but she also knew she was about to ask for something more from the silver haired manager than just mere jokes. It required a bit more challenge, on top of being playful with him, to get her requests; It required a classy kind of subterfuge to get his attention. She had mulled over how to approach the CFO the whole weekend, and this was the best approach she could come up with.

"OoooOh, a lady dats not shy an' willin' ta use her guns... ," he rested his chin on his hands over the divider of her cubicle, indicating that he was giving her his full attention, at least most of it, as he licked off the frosting from the cupcake in his hands. "... im-prrrrressive. So wat do I have dats of value to ya, maaAAaah lady?"

Orihime raised the original sheet of paper Syazel had given her a week earlier. It was the organizational chart with all the listings of top management.

"I'm working with Granz-san on a project to promote inter-team cooperation, with all higher management. I have an idea for a team building activity. By any chance is Arrancar willing to support this?"

"Could be," he looked at her curiously. "Ain't Syazel helpin ya with dat?"

She settled for the truth."Not really, no."

"How much is yer projection?" he eyed her lazily.

She told him the conservative number.

Orihime held her breath to see what his response would be - it was a make or break question. If she was right, it meant she could start working on the team building, but if she was wrong, she may as well be out of options. If the CFO couldn't part with the cost, there was likely no way she would get anything from anyone, even if she found Starrk, who told her the plan in the first place.

"That cud work." He lazily reached for another cupcake, and she again took away the tray with a smile.

"Awww missy, ya can't be that mean..."

It was very bold of Orihime to outright refuse one of the board directors, but then again, this was important. His earlier response was almost a promise, but not exactly; She wanted to make sure she had a clear cut answer. The man had a penchance for playfulness, and there was no telling if it extended to plays with words. With the job at stake, she was trying to be extra careful without being too serious about it. She knew he was loving it though, as the man still kept his easy demeanor with his last comment, like he lived for teasing challenges.

More importantly, she wanted to make sure Ichimaru understood that she knew who he was. The reason why she was asking him, and not anyone else, in the first place. "Is that a yes, Ichimaru-san?"

His smile got wider.

"Oh, ya know me! But that's unfair, I dun know ya, ... Orihime-chan."

Touché, Gin knew her name. A surprisingly good sign though. She thought no one with the exception of Syazel knew she was working in the company. This cheered her up a bit as she looked at him squarely, looking for a straight answer.

"Expensive cupcakes ya have der... but sure. The budget's friendly enough ta take in a teambuilding cost... So can I have another one?"

She brought the tray down from her head and extended it to him. This time he took the blueberry topped cupcake, and picked off the berries.

Orihime gave the man his chance to enjoy his prize, before she raised a finger. "Another question," she pre-empted.

Recognizing another opportunity to snatch more sweets from the tray, he diverted his attention back on her and grinned.

"That'll cost ya..."

"Its a small request, I'm sure its hardly difficult for someone in your position," she explained, pausing as she put down the cupcakes on her table, "I can't find any of the employee files for the team leaders, as well as top management. Including yours, Ichimaru-san. Is there any way I can get them for analysis?"

"They're confidential, lil' missy..." she deflated, until he continued on,"... But I can get em for ya. Fer a price." This time it was his turn to raise a finger, slyly mirroring her action just a few seconds ago, "One cupcake per team lead." He grinned as he bit on the cupcake he was currently holding, which included white chocolate bits. She could see he was enjoying the bargaining. But there were nine team leads, including Syazel, and she was down to four cupcakes to work with. It was hardly a fair trade, however which way she looked.

"It will be more difficult if I don't have those files. Time wasted, you see, it'll just be wasting company money hiring me to do something inefficient. I suppose in the long run, it will turn out to be much more expensive. Its for the company's best interest... see it as a necessity." She gave her best smile. "How about one for the whole set?"

She saw him smile even wider. He really was enjoying this. "You drive a hard bargain, but I like the way ya think. Ya want to become my assistant instead?"

She shook her head in polite reply.

"Alright, Princess. The whole set fo' one." He licked his fingers as his eyes went back to the tray with four remaining. He was eyeing the dark chocolate flecked orange cupcake. She picked it up carefully and handed it to him with both hands.

"Personal touch, even better! I like ya, Orihime-chan. _Thankee, sai._" He took a bite on his third cupcake for the day.

"I need them as soon as possible, Ichimaru-san." She added politely.

"Dun ya worry, I have em for ya by tomorrow mornin'. Good eh?"

She nodded, inwardly excited. This was really turning out really well for her. She couldn't have imagined things to be this smooth - she already bargained for a budget cost, _and_ getting her hands on the files. "Thank you, that would really help a lot."

She still had three cupcakes left, and tried to decide what to do with them. There was one question she had been thinking about since she had met Syazel in her first day. But asking meant also revealing to the man in front of her that she was not entirely satisfied with her job. She rolled the last thought in her head for a moment, then finally gave in.

"Last question, Ichimaru-san. I'm willing to give away the whole tray, if you could provide me an answer for my next question."

He suddenly held a keen interest at her. "Oooh, an all-bid, very bold. Should I be worryin'?"

"Not if you don't have anything to hide, Ichimaru-san. Is it a deal?"

"I think I'd rather listen to da question first, if ya don't mind." He set aside his half eaten sweet, to hear to what she had to say.

It was a spur of the moment thing, but seeing how amendable it was to work with the Chief Financial Officer decided it for her. She took the riskier alternative and popped her question.

"Whose idea was it to create a program for what I'm working on? It certainly wasn't Granz-san."

This time he blinked. For a short moment, she could see a light shade of blue irises beneath the slits. So he was also at least a foreigner, despite looking physically Japanese. "Nyahh... that one gonna to cost ya. And, I can only give ya half the answer fo' the price of those three," he referred to the three remaining cupcakes, "Are ya willin' ta take that risk?"

Well she was already out of questions, and with Gin agreeing to the first two without any sort of problems, she was rather fine with anything. This question had been bugging her all week, and an answer would let her know she had some sort of support from someone in the company. She was certain that Syazel wasn't one of them, but she was surprised to find out she was merely getting half an answer.

"Yes."

"O-hkay, lil' Princess," he extended his unnaturally long hands to locked them together, giving himself a stretch, "It ain't Syazel, yer smart enough ta see dat. Da person is jus' probably waitin' fo ya ta take sum initiative. I think ya'll find out who afta' ya do sumthin' right. Think of it as ... makin' sure ya remain impartial ta everyone involved."

It wasn't much, but she was satisfied with the last answer he gave. With a complete transaction made, she nodded and handed over the rest of tray to him.

"Do ya mind holdin on to those for a while fo' me. I've got sum _ren-dez-vous_ with the Syazel's air vents, an I'd like to keep my desserts dust-free," he grinned.

"Sure, Ichimaru-san. They'll be waiting for you when you come back," she gathered herself up, "it was a fun talking to you." Contrary to being playful, she offered her hands instead to seal the deal.

"I like ya, little miss Orihime-chan," he smiled at her, "Dat was a fair exchange. I'll get yer files to ya tom'row mornin. It was nice eatin' yer cupcakes.'" He grasped hers in accordance. They were large, quite bony and rough. But it was also firm - something that did not match with his playful personality. This was an all business handshake.

"Now if ya excuse me, I have an air vent ta infiltrate." He winked and went about his way.

It was a day later, exactly as promised, when she received her expected visitor. Orihime was sitting about her desk brainstorming possible team building activities when Gin came around and lazily hung his arms on the dividers, holding several folders in his hands.

"Here you go Orihime-chan, hot off the press!" She looked up at the perpetually smiling CFO as he waved the folders about. She could never get used to those slits of his.

"Sorry I couldn't get all of 'em at the moment. The person I had ta take these off from had a tantrum an' kicked me out o' his floor in quite a hurry," he smiled in a non-apologetic manner.

She counted five folders in his hands.

"But look! I made it all up to ya..." he excitedly opening one, pointing his thin, long fingers to a colored photo clipped at the top page, "I attached all dis nice personal photos so ya can recognize 'em better! Ain't dat nice of me?" his smile grew wider, if that was even possible.

She glanced at the picture, attached to a file under the name of Nnoitra. A dark, long haired man with thin, elongated face was looming back angrily at the camera with his wide mouth opened in what looked like a threatening frozen half shout, his long hands outstretched in a vindictive, claw-like curl, reaching towards the photographer. His other hand was hidden in front of him.

He was standing in front of a urinal.

She looked back at Gin, who was still smiling.

"Ain't these better than those awful boring mugshots we usually get? I mean, ya can't recognize 'em looking so sombre with those!"

"Uhm… yes, they're very … nice. Thank you Ichimaru-san," she agreed reluctantly, as she reached out for the rest of the files.

"But wait! ya ain't't seen anythin' yet," he excitedly opened another folder, "Ya check Grimmy's, I invested a lotta my time jus' to get 'im to pose… LooOOoook!"

The unlikely chief financial officer eagerly pushed a picture up to her nose, so she had no choice but to follow where his fingers pointed.

In the lower foreground was a smiling Gin Ichimaru holding a large, striped hula hoop. Behind him, centered in the hoop was a blue-haired man with a rough, rugged face, looking intoxicated, and was surrounded by several empty bottles of what she suspected was either vodka, or gin bottles. He was standing on the table on his hands. And balancing a bright, red ball on his nose like a show seal, snugly dressed in a pink tutu with matching pink ballerina shoes.

"Nyah! Dat was funny. Had ta spend weeks ta get Grimmy's body stats an order dat tutu, 'en got him dead drunk with a case of vodka! Perfect, ya?"

She wondered what the other pictures held. "Uhm… thank you. These will be really helpful, Ichimaru-san -"

"Posh, Orihime-chan, we're colleagues! Call me Gin, no need ta be so fo'mal," He patted her on the head.

"Gin, yes, ... I really appreciate these, they will help a lot."

"Dun' worry 'bout the rest o' em. I'll get em fo' ya before tom'row afternoon... Now, ain't I a swell boss?"

He was still trying to get her to defect. For a second, she wondered why he was being so insistent. She topped her math classes back in middle school, but that hardly meant she was qualified to work on finances.

"How 'bout ya pass by my office later with these," he tapped at the draft of ideas for the team building activities she was working on, "say, four-ish?

"But I don't know where your office is...?"

"Always prepped, I am. I even drew a map of der locations fo' ya!" He opened one of the folders, and picked out a piece of paper that had a crudely drawn layout of a floor. "My office, at lucky number eight floor!"

Unless she was mistaken, his office took up almost half the floor. "Okay, Gin-san.."

"Gin, just Gin! We gotta get used ta bein' wit each other if we're gonna work togetha, yes? Ya'll be the luckiest employee in Arrancar under meh!"

She smiled politely to the man.

"I'm gonna get ya ta change yer mind sooner or later, lil' Princess," he edged his face further into her cubicle, and suddenly opened his slits. Maybe to see her better with, she didn't know. Most of the times his eyes looked like they were closed. To be honest, he wasn't bad looking at all, she just couldn't get herself around the prankish smile he always has on. His face always reminded her of a snake. He let go of the folders in his hands, and retracted himself.

"Have fun meetin' eve'yone. Gotta scoot, Aizen's waitin fo me ta do some plannin," He winked. Yes, she thought he definitely winked this time. "See ya later, Orihime-chan!"

Seeing the silver haired man lazily walking towards the lifts, she looked down to investigate the five folders on her table. Grimmjow. Nnoitra. Starrk, Lilynette and surprisingly, a file for Gin himself.

She smiled as she opened the files to look at the contents. _Finally! This will be much better._

That is, until she started reading the real contents. Then there was only one thought on her head.

_Oh dear._

* * *

Arrests. Convictions. Charges. All five people's files in her hands had, one way or the other, broken the law or caused forms of disruption or assault to an authority figure. The severity varied from person to person, ranging from a simple tampering to a lewd conduct conviction to manslaughter charges.

Starrk had been charged with kidnapping and several assaults on a police officer. Lilynette had computer hacking in her file. Gin was arrested for embezzlement and money laundering. Nnoitra was charged for rape and manslaughter. Grimmjow was convicted for arson, theft, assault and willful damage of property. _What is it with these people?_

Confidential indeed, she thought. Most of the convicted offenses were minor, but more serious arrests were mostly charges, but that did not alleviate the sudden queasy sensation from the pits of her stomach.

She thought _colorful_ employees meant merely a few quirks here and there, but the information she had up front had proved otherwise. And now she was committed, having directly spoken with Gin about the team building plans a day earlier, and asking for the files. Weaseling her way out of this is not going to help anyone, and in her point of view, nor was it very responsible.

She quickly scanned through the ones she was interested in, taking in the details and glancing at the pictures attached. She had to admit the pictures helped quell her anxiety - there was no way you can imagine a multiple assault convicted arsonist in a threatening light when they wore pink tutus. She glanced at her watch. A quick hop to the boulangerie for supplies were in order. She better make this work, or she'll be out of the job in no time.

* * *

"Hello everyone! Its your lucky day!" She nervously held out eight cups of steaming coffee to her colleagues on fifth floor. Like the people from Syazel's floor, a few of the people looked up from their stations, and those who did, promptly looked back down. Except for one.

"Look here, our resident princess!" A blue haired man came over to her. Rugged features, wide psychotic smile, slightly sunken eyes. That would be Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. "Been hearing about you from Starrk up in the sixth floor. We're pretty normal, you know. None of us are mentally challenged," he grinned wickedly.

The word _Arsonist_ suddenly popped up in her head. She reminded herself not to be too fixated on the man's background. _Smile, Orihime_, she nervously told herself. She tried to shelf her apprehensions aside and look straight at the man. "I'm glad to finally meet you Jaegerjaquez-san, my name is Inoue Orihi-"

"Yes, _Princess_, right? Don't call me by my last name, makes me feel like you're talking to someone else. Grimmjow's the name. Or call me Panthera, like the ferocious cat in the wild." She swallowed. Ferocious. Like assault. or second degree murder. She blinked.

Out of nowhere, Gin appeared beside her and drawled lazily, "How about Pink Panther with an A at the end, for a _derrière?_" _Where did Gin come from?_ But with the sudden mention of pink, images of Grimmjow in a pink tutu suddenly surfaced in her head. The nervous bubble popped, and she giggled.

"What the - where the hell did you come out from, Gin? the fucking floor? Shut up."

He attempted to push the CFO away with a quick elbow. Gin sidestepped and slapped Grimmjow on the head, hard, with a loud smack. Orihime winced at the rough physical display.

"Manners, manners Grimmy. We got a nice lil' lady here, ya dun wanna show yer potty mouth so early in the day..."

Grimmjow growled, "You idiot, its already fuckin' afternoon! Get lost, Gin. Don't you have anything better to do than bring your friggin' _derrière_ here?"

"Now, now, Grimmy, I like 'er company. I was stalkin' her an' tryin' ta convince lil' missy here ta defect ta my team, was hopin' ta earn sum brownie points," Gin winked her again.

"STOP calling me Grimmy, you screwball! How many times do I have to tell you to stop making fucking names! You make me sound like a domestic cat!"

Gin actually stopped. Then a mischievous smile slowly formed on his face.

"How about Kitty then?"

Grimmjow growled and grabbed the nearest projectile he could get his hands on, which was a stapler on his table, and sent it flying towards towards Gin's head with a quick whip. Unfortunately, Gin expertly caught it and turned around. "Thanks fo da stapler, Grimmy. I was running out of ammo wit' mine. Alrighty, I'll leave ya two to get acquainted." He grinned and gaily left the aisles.

The blue haired man glowered at a retreating Gin until he was out of his side of the office. Then he turned his attention back to Orihime, who was still holding up the coffee tray, and was getting quite heavy for her to hold up.

He barked madly at his subordinates."You pansies! Get your asses over here and pick these coffees up!"

He quickly took the coffee tray from Orihime's hands, grabbing one for himself. "Hey, there's only six of us, what's the other two for?"

"Its for the fifth team, since I found out both of you worked in the same floor -"

"Oh, that dumbass Noitra. He isn't here, Princess, but Tesla's is over at the other side. You're not going to catch Noitra today, he went out to meet a client," Grimmjow slid himself to sit on his table. He was eyeing her.

"Oh I see... thank you. Maybe I'll drop by for Gilga-san's coffee some other time..."

Grimmjow suddenly snorted a laugh." 'Gilga-san'? That sounds so fucking distinguished of him! Don't call him that, Princess, he isn't worth _shit_. Screw the both of them. Why don't you get one for yourself?" He picked a cup and handed it to her.

She smiled sheepishly and took the cup. She had to admit, Grimmjow seemed nice for a convicted felon. She kind of liked his casual approach, and he wasn't too pushy like Gin.

"So, Princess, have you met everyone yet?"

"Mostly Granz-san... other than that, its you and Gin-san. I was hoping to meet Noitra Gilga today, but you said he was out..."

"Working up the ladder, huh?"

"I suppose you can say that... Also, I just wanted to check to confirm, but I noticed the Fourth Team has only one person in it? A Ulquiorra Cifer?"

Grimmjow took a nasty edge when the name was mentioned. "Ulquiorra? Yeah, he's a one man team. But thank gods, no one would want to work with that pompous ass. He's your classic nutcase, you should head over and check him out, instead of us. Are you planning to work on that freak?"

"Oh, no no, I'm not here to be a psychologist! I don't even have a degree or a medical license yet!" She tried to explain. Somehow, it looked like word got out that she was here to try and psychoanalyze people. She had no idea where that came from. "But I was thinking of meeting Cifer-san tomorrow, hopefully. In any case, I don't know where he's located..."

Grimmjow snorted. "Cifer-san, huh? Well that's something I haven't heard anyone refer to him for a long time." He sipped the coffee. "He's always out doing field work. I haven't seen him for a while. He might actually be dead in his table decomposing like -" he casually glanced at his watch, "lets see... haven't seen him in seven days, probably stuck in that shithole of his... that would be - yes. Decomposing like human soup. No one would miss him except Aizen", he guffawed, "Gods, human slush soup would stink so much, even more so with his shit!"

Inoue remembered her classes. Human soup? How would Grimmjow know how bad THAT smelled?

"The asshole's been doing things for Aizen. We're all stuck here in this god-awful office, and he gets a jolly hay day everyday. Hold on." He picked up his phone. "Yammy, you shit. Do you know if the Ulquiorra is in today?"

Inoue closed her eyes as the phone conversation continued. The number of expletives coming out from Grimmjow-san's mouth was enough to make her blush.

"Hmmmm. Yes. Ok. Could you put the new kid into his schedule? Yeah."

Grimmjow turned to her, a sly smile on his face. "He's scheduled to come back in fifteen minutes. I already asked Yammy to mark you down in the Cuatro's schedule."

Cuatro? Oh yes, Four. She almost forgot the team leads around here were from Europe and mostly spoke foreign languages.

"Oh, its not necessary, Grimmjow-san -" she tried to stop him. She hasn't seen the fourth lead's file yet, and wanted to come prepared.

"I ain't bein' nice Princess. Maybe you can do us all a favor and get him to take some _methadone_, and I'll chug him with a bottle of alcohol later. Then we can all be rid of his shit-ass existence."

"I... uhh..." she stammered. _Was he just asking her to be an accessory for murder?_

"Oh, not that type huh? Okay then, you can forget I said anything if you can't stomach it. Either way, it's hard to catch the prick in the office. Take it as a thanks for bringing in coffee instead. Anyway, the person is anal retentive, you have to schedule everything with him; you don't want him going to fits," He chuckled, as if some other thought was making him laugh.

She supposed that since Nnoitra wasn't in, she might as well take the extra cup to her next impromptu appointment. "But I don't know what Cifer-san looks like..."

"Oh don't worry about it, princess, he's a hard man to miss, anyone can spot his shit from a mile away. And I forgot, he works in the fourth floor, not here. Make sure you remember that. And bring a jacket on the way up, if you have one. Here's the card to get there. You'll need it." He handed a blank card and pushed Orihime towards the lifts. He was certainly in a hurry to get her to the Cuatro's meeting.

"Oh, and don't forget, if you ever change your mind about methadone after meeting him, make sure you tell me, alright?"

* * *

Anal retentive? Like Ishida-kun? She giggled. She thought of checking his background file prior to the visit, but remembered that Gin hasn't gotten his file yet. And since the appointment was pinned down in a rush, together learning that Ulquiorra Cifer was a hard man to catch in the office, she didn't have much of a choice.

She passed by Syazel's floor first to pick up the cardigan she had on her desk before going back to take the lifts. When she entered the building lift again, she scanned for the fourth floor button, wondering which other teams were working there. She stopped. Floors one to three were present, as well as five onwards, but the fourth was nowhere to be found. She forgot some of the Japanese building owners were superstitious, and didn't like having a fourth floor in their designs. She sometimes wondered if they intentionally kept the floor bare, or that they merely skipped the number and labelled the fourth floor as fifth, the fifth as sixth, the sixth as seventh...

Now, this was a problem. With the delay, the lift had already moved down to the ground floor in her confusion to find the missing floor button. She glanced at her watch. 3:26. She was scheduled at half past three. How is she supposed to get to the fourth floor if there was no button for it?

She remembered the card Grimmjow gave her, taking it out and looking for a slot to insert it into. No slot. Maybe it worked differently. She tried to experimentally swipe it through the whole of the elevator side panel instead, and finally heard a short beep when she passed the card in the bottom portion.

Right. That means in this case, they kept the fourth floor bare.

The doors started to close when she spotted a man hurrying towards her to catch her lift. She pressed the open button to hold the doors to let him in, but they proceeded to close. She pressed to several times, but it didn't register. Before they closed completely, she gave an apologetic smile to the man. He also had a confused look on his face, since he was also pressing the button from the outside. That's strange. Maybe the buttons are faulty, she thought.

She hummed quietly as the elevator came up.

_"G"..."1"..."2"..."3"... blank._

_Ting._

When the lift doors opened, a sudden blast of cold air greeted her. Orihime was left with her mouth hanging open as the freezing air settled, taking in the scene up front.

The whole expanse of the floor was empty, dark except for one table in the middle, with two of the largest lcd screen she's seen, thirty feet away. One was positioned on the table, and another one was adjacent to the first one, positioned at standing level. There was a water dispenser located at the far side of the room. There was one door to the right, and another smaller door to the left. A slight humming was coming from the right door that looked like it was bolted in. There were no windows.

It was also freezing.

The only other person in the room was behind the monitor. She could almost see a hand peeking out from where she stood. A laptop rested on the side of large table, and a long train of cord plugged into a very, very, very, VERY long socket adaptor connected to the wall.

Suddenly, she thought maybe the free coffee she was holding wasn't a very good idea. She glanced at the coffee in her hand. What kind of person worked in this setting? And I thought Grimmjow was colorful. This was the exact opposite, at the very edge of the opposite spectrum. People in the other end of the spectrum do not like intrusions. Maybe these people were really crazy.

But curiosity got the better of her as she stepped forward towards the only light in the room.

The constant humming in the background was irritating. It wasn't easy to listen in, the place was devoid of any furnishings, and the humming was echoing in a crazy way, making her hear ringing in her ears as they tried to accustom themselves from all the humming. It was like constant bees buzzing in her head. She was grateful that the blue haired man suggested a jacket, but he forgot exactly how much of a jacket she truly needed. She shivered slightly as she held on to her cardigan. Then she remembered Grimmjow's words.

_He's your classic nutcase._

She was still fifteen feet away, walking cautiously to the table and she decided to speak up. Better earlier and far away than when she was right on top of this person. She flinched when her voice echoed against the walls, the place was a cavern. "Ah, he-hello Cifer-san, my name is Orihime Inoue –" Trying to concentrate properly despite freezing temperatures. It was really cold in here. She slowly walked up to the length, her low, pointed heels clacking loudly against at the tiled floor.

Silence.

She slowed down when she was about eight feet from the table. She decided it was a respectable distance for someone who didn't like having his private space invaded – for goodness sakes, the whole floor was screaming privacy – and she didn't want to waste any more time staying too long. He wouldn't be a serial murderer, would he?

"Well, I was just meeting up with all the project managers, I was asked to develop a program for the company... I'm in the HR department with Granz-san." She stopped herself five feet away. The person was still behind the monitors.

No response.

She cleared her throat. "Here, I bought you some coffee to celebrate out first meeting! My name is Inoue Orihime," she added again, in case he missed it the first time. "It's nice meeting you."

Still silence.

___He's your classic nutcase, you should head over and check him out, instead of us._

She regretted coming here before seeing Ulquiorra Cifer's file. He could be one of those convicted serial killers she saw on TV. It wouldn't be a far fetched idea, after seeing the files for the others. Most of the dangerous serial killers didn't talk a lot. They were all quiet and solitary, but what they did to their victims usually made her stomach churn. She didn't want to end up being decapitated just for intruding.

Or... Maybe he was deaf? If everyone of these people really are strange, then maybe he had a hearing problem? That would explain his non-response for the past minute she tried to introduce herself. She didn't recall Grimmjow asking her if she knew sign language. She tried to discretely peek over the monitor, but it was gigantically huge and impossible to see the person behind it. Come to think of it, she can't see a chair. Where was the chair? She can't see a backrest or an armrest anywhere. A stool? Was he sitting? Is he a midget? She tried to stifle a giggle as her imagination started acting up.

No, not a midget. She saw white sleeves peeking out, with expensive looking elaborate silver cufflinks. At the end of those sleeves, long, pale slender fingers resting on what looked to be a touchpad. She tried to recall her classes. Dwarfism do not characteristically have long, slender fingers. Hmm. No, definitely not one. Maybe mute, mutilated by torture by the yakuza and had his tongue cut off? But then, he'd heard her and at least stand up. Mute doesn't equate to deaf. Strangely, people seem to think that both are one and the same thing. It was strange logic –

She heard movement, and a soft squeaking sound. That snapped her attention back, as she noticed the tops of a mop of black hair appearing before her.

Familiar piercing green irises, a jet of night black hair, and the perpetual frown, coalesced from behind the monitors.

"You are still in one piece."

_Him._

All thoughts of serial killers, dwarves and mutilated tongues went promptly out of the windows, as thoughts of last weekend's incident returned to her. She was suddenly pleasantly surprised to have found him here, in her new job, of all places.

She unconsciously pursed her lips.

Now that her mind wasn't overwhelmed by complete embarrassment or utter panic of losing her life, she had the head to take in her unexpected green-eyed savior in better detail.

He was clothed in expensive taste, long sleeves which were deceivingly stark white at first glance from the only glaring, hash lights of the empty floor, but up close, belied a textured, woven exquisite material that brought a slightly organic feel, yet not looking like it, as they looked more primly starched, coming off like hard and unyielding cardboard. The slim, knitted dark indigo-blue tie was rigidly and perfectly knotted, secure in its place by a silver, nondescript tie pin. He had the look of one who always had an assured objective at the start of each day - careful, meticulous, possibly quite objective.

The jet of black hair was a contradiction to his attire. Very likely, stylishly cut by a posh three figure salon service, at the strict request of something possibly tasteful but with a definite bottom line of being low maintenance. They looked like they haven't been trimmed for a while. The tips were at varying lengths, the longest streaks staying just slightly longer than his chin, a fitting backdrop against his moderately angular face. They fell haphazardly now, a slip of dark night hair carelessly grazed against his slightly sharp nose. They looked as if the mop of hair were always constantly ignored, possibly a quick gob of styling clay with his long, thin fingers running through his messy locks, just right out of the shower, before an impatient step out of the front door.

The black hair fell to frame what could only be described as a … blank, lightly pale slate of clay of a face. How Tatsuki would have mistaken this man for cute, she wasn't sure. The skin was an envy of women, porcelain smooth, but on a man, looks almost strange with its unnatural paleness, as if they have been out of the sun's reach for long periods of time. Thin set lips constantly in a slight frown, a slightly pointed nose. The face's only redeeming feature were those viridian, bright green orbs, giving his eyes a much bigger look.

The eyes looked straight on as if,... she didn't exist. She recognized it, it was what she found strange when she was side by side with this man last weekend. They had a glazed, but focused tenseness. As if they were constantly looking at the world, and taking everything in, as if there was infinitely more, something else in his frame of vision, and not the one that was in front of him. As if he was watching, and yet at the same time, not. He looked as if she did not exist... yes, that was what unsettled her.

It was a slate of blank clay, a glorious, almost perfect model of tabula rasa personified - Almost perfect, except if one looked closely, the possibly porcelain beautiful skin had two short, ragged streaks of scars running down to his cheeks. Like tear tracks. They looked almost invisible, but under the harsh light in the cold office, the disturbance of evenness on the surface of his skin highlighted the imperfection.

Her savior, almost akin to a strange mannequin created by a crazed fashion god-artist. A canvas of pale skin and tasteful clothes of unobtrusive colors, almost invisible and chameleon-like, and then decided to juxtapose them with large, piercing emerald eyes, a perpetual tight lipped frown, and finishing off with a randomly selected black mop of midnight hair.

Regardless, he was her other savior. She smiled. "Cifer-san -"

He sharply cut her off.

"Step away from the cord."

His viridian eyes moved from her to the white cord she was stepping on.

She looked down to see that she had unintentionally nudged the adaptor to the left and was partially stepping on them. "Whoops, sorry." She moved her feet away and looked back with an apologetic smile.

He kept looking at her.

She looked back.

He continued looking.

This went on for several seconds. It was getting awkward. She _was_ starting to feel awkward, but kept her apologetic smile glued to her face. Was he waiting for something? A thank you for last weekend? A sorry for the incident in the boulangerie? Maybe… A happy dance? Confusing. She couldn't decipher anything. His eyes looked as emotionless and blank as the first time she encountered them during the morning in the boulangerie.

He suddenly stood up, one hand in his pockets, and moved over to where she was standing, the strange eyes still on her.

She felt like a cattle on sale. But she kept her lips upturned as he slowly moved around her.

Then he diverted his eyes and kneeled down and slowly moved the adaptor …

... to its original position?

A thought clicked in her head.

_Goodness._ NOW she knew what Grimmjow's comment on anal-retentive meant.

Her head did several thoughts at this point.

One, never laugh. Obssessive compulsives get frustrated when people laugh at their obssessions.

She really was trying hard not to giggle at the situation. She settled for a smile.

Two, keep distance. Until you understand the person, the less intrusive you are of his personal privacy, the better.

She held her ground.

Three, one should –_ Wait. Is that an exercise ball over there? _

A large silver inflated ball was rolling back and forth slowly behind the table.

"Cifer-san, is that an exercise ball over at your table?"

"Yes." He answered emotionlessly, and continued staring at her. Staring wasn't the right word. He looked like he stared _past_ her.

Images of the pale haired man doing crunches and push-ups secretly in this empty, freezing office was more than she could muster. She really couldn't help it anymore. She _had_ to ask. She giggled. "Why is it there?"

She thanked inwardly when he actually didn't looked affronted. In fact, he didn't look much like anything at all. His low, timbre voice resonated in the room as he spoke out.

"I sit on it."

She mouthed a slow "Ohh". She did hear about people using exercise balls for chairs, but didn't expect an obsessive-compulsive to be so adventurous as to try something remotely nouveau as this in their repertoire of habits.

Despite the fact that the person in front of her had been less than stellar for the past few times – and being a savior - he seemed quite attentive this time around... that is, if a block of marble was actually called attentive in the first place. Despite his inaction, his eyes were still glazed. _He rarely blinks,_ she realized. As if he was concentrating on something quite important. She wondered if he was always like this with everyone else.

She prodded on, just out of curiosity, wanting to see how the man would react to a little opposition. She had her suspicions about his answer, but as they say, it's better to get the answer straight from the horse's mouth.

"You know they say that it doesn't help, right? Studies show that there's no direct correlation between using an exercise ball and back improvement. In fact, studies show there's no difference between normal chairs," she pointed out carefully.

"I prefer the ball."

"A stool might do better. You could accidentally slip on the ball and cause an accident if you're not careful, yes?"

"An accident is highly unlikely."

"Well, I haven't gone through the office policies, but I read a number of companies refused to allow their employees with this kind of replacement. I'm not a physiologist, nor am I a policy maker, but its practical enough reason to companies to be cautious-"

He snapped a response. "Aizen-sama does not object to this, woman. So your logic does not hold. Everything in this room is integral to the completion of my work."

Then in an instant, her mouth ran way up front without the coordination of her head. Before she could stop herself, she heard herself asking:

"So all this isn't just a way of burning more calories in the office?"

She highly doubted it. Considering his performance last weekend, hanging quite calmly as if it was second nature, probably not. But she couldn't stop herself from teasing the person in front of her. He was so rigid that she wanted to giggle. It also didn't help that it was freezing cold in the entire floor, and her mind was doing a re-enaction of an ice cream brain freeze.

To top it off, he inadvertently reminded her of a petulant, spoiled child. She liked teasing those. A lot.

"Woman, was there anything you wanted in particular aside from asking me meaningless questions?" he declared pointedly at her, his low vibrating hum of a voice suspiciously sounded like an irritated warning that may lead to an incident of catastrophic proportions.

That brought her mind back to her original objective. And on top of that, remembering both the unfortunate incident at the bakery last week and the fortunate incident in the indoor vertical climb a few days ago. For someone whom she's just met recently, she certainly owed a _LOT_ of things to the person in front of her despite his stoic, rude and almost cold exterior. He practically mangled her shoulders, too, but that was beside the point. She was now really determined to catch up, especially with him standing in front of her.

She was very excited at finding him so soon. But she was also feeling very cold in a very freezing room, leaving her feeling quite jittery. At the same time, a flush of embarrassment was also quickly developing, being bluntly caught and pointed out for asking such an inappropriate out of the blue question that popped into her head out of nowhere. It was essentially a mix of cold, hot, excitement and embarrassment - not a very good combination for someone such as Inoue Orihime to handle.

So in typical Inoue Orihime fashion, whenever her she blanked out or didn't know which way to go, her head became a pile of slush and her mouth went overdrive with the first thing that came to her mind. With the warm coffee the only thing giving solace to her immediate senses, she said…

* * *

"Actually…" she raised the cup in her hand, "I know it's a little late, but free coffee?" she offered with a slowly growing smile. "Its freezing in here, something hot would do you good, I'm sure!"

Ulquiorra looked at bubbly orange haired woman with the coffee in her hand.

"I do not drink caffeinated drinks. Nor do I appreciate hot drinks."

He could distinctly smell the still-billowing steam and roasted beans from where he was, recalling the ugly mix of sour pickles and slick motor oil. It was surreal with each passing scent.

"Oh, but that's awful! How inconsiderate of me. That's no way for me to thank my savior! " He stared as she dropped the coffee cup straight into his trash can beside the table without hesitation. "I did come over to offer a drink to a colleague. Was there anything in particular you like?"

"Water." He answered.

Then he decided he wanted to get this useless conversation over with.

"I don't see how any of this is relevant, woman."

"Of course it is!" she bubbled enthusiastically. _Bubbled?_

"You saved me, and here I was wondering for the longest time I didn't even get the chance to know your name, with you disappearing last weekend and all, and I suddenly find you in the same place I work in! I really thought I was a goner, you know. I hadn't really had a chance to thank you. Of course the drink is important! It's like a hello-welcome-thank you-and-I-apologize drink all rolled into one!"

He eyed her uneasily – well at least, that's what it was for him. To Inoue Orihime, there was hardly any reaction from him whatsoever. She was merely met with a quiet, unanswering stare. That didn't stop her, though. She was still feeling quite surreal, and her mind was still a motley of opposing thoughts. So she plucked out and continued on with the most obvious thought hovering in her mind.

"I'd love to give you water, but you already have a bucket full right over there, so that hardly counts," pointing at the water dispenser at the corner. She seemed to be talking to herself, than to him.

"How about an invigorating smoothie? Its non-caffeinated, and its cold. Although I do wonder why you would want one in here," she looked about her and placed her hands across her arms, "But I have a lot of wonderful recipes for smoothies. I love strawberries, they're sweet and sour at the same time. Do you? They're really refreshing. You should try them sometime. So are you adverse in strawberries, or any sort fruit or vegetable I should be aware of?"

The woman was like a non-stop talking chatterbox, akin to running an oral marathon a-mile-in-a-minute. He could almost see flickers of glowing lines of light racing past her as if she was going on and on across the universe in maximum wrap drive in a Star Trek episode, and suddenly went to a full stop when she posed her final question. It was new, and it was quite disorienting. He didn't like being disoriented.

"No, I –"

"Well that settles it then!" She chirped gaily, "I'll come back tomorrow with the perfect drink for you, alright?" Orihime remembered schedules and anal-rententiveness like an afterthought. "Could you add me into your schedule tomorrow, Cifer-san? You look like someone who comes in right on time everyday in the morning. Unless you have some sort of meeting or field case, I should be okay to drop by at nine, I guess it should be fine for you, right?"

Stupefied, he nodded once. She really thought and said her mind all at the same time, the chatterbox. His world wouldn't be able to conjure up this kind of absurd personality, would it? He closed his eyes briefly, and tried to conjure the possibility of such an image in his mind. It came out a blank. He looked back again and still saw the woman in front of him blabbering at warp speed, he himself feeling like spineless, lifeless toy experiencing a violent pulling sensation, as if one was being jerked and sucked unceremoniously into a vacuum of empty space that she displaced with her non-stop talking. He suddenly felt cold and unsettled at the sensation. A slow downturn at the ends of his mouth was the only thing that indicated this confusion, his eyes still rigid looking at the scene of the air-headed woman before him.

She went one hundred and eighty on him and walked back to the elevator doors, her heels still clicking against the cold floor tiles.

"Lets catch up tomorrow, ok, Cifer-san?

* * *

When she was gone, He stared at the elevator doors for a while.

Then he went back and looked down at the trash can beside him, slowly picking up the dispensed coffee cup, a single entity of black against a mound of white, textured scrunched up papers, the smell of burnt, rancid beans still permeating his brain, and the hiss of red-lined heat flowing gently through his hands.

A few minutes later, he was seen draining the offensive, infinitely black, sour-tasting coffee down into the bathroom sink and activating the water faucet in the said sink to remove any traces of the substance. The cup was dumped into the bathroom trash, and he closed the door behind him securely.

_What a strange woman_, he thought. And he continued working.

* * *

Half past four, and two pairs of eyes looked on as the doors were closed. One looked benevolent, the other one with a sneaky grin.

"So exactly why did you agree to hire the girl again, Aizen?"

"Like she said, to develop a proposal draft for a program to promote intercooperativeness, Gin."

"Ya, really…. ? She's quite a gem of a find, ain't she?"

Aizen continued smiling.

"You may think of it as helping with team morale, Gin. As you can see, she is already proving to be a valuable asset to have in the office."

"Ya know, its really quite mean of ya to put a sheep like dat into a den o' wolves."

"I find it amusing you find her to be a sheep. Consider this instead: If she were the opposite? maybe both?"

A moment of silence. "Ya sure like ta joke a lot nowadays, Aizen. Quite unfair of ya, dat's supposed ta be my role."

"It's an experiment, Gin. See it as social experiment towards an beneficial end goal."

"Nyah... In any case, a poker tourney for the team building sounds like a great idea. Ya think I can get the others to give up this month's salary? That sounds like a beneficial end goal to me."

* * *

**AN:** _(1) Thankee sai - A form of "thank you" from The Dark Tower Series by Stephen King._

_ (2) __derrière_ - French for butt... or in this case, ass. :)  


_ (3) human soup - dead human bodies decay after a certain number of days, and they begin to liquify. Ok. That's all I'm going to say.  
_

_ (4) methadone + alcohol - taking these two together, usually means, goodbye life. Its a dangerous combination.  
_

_(5) If you were wondering why its freezing cold and noisy in Ulquiorra's floor, then let me explain. Its not because I made up a silly room like that for the purposes of this fanfic. He's actually working in a data center server room - a place where all the computers of a company (usually hundreds or even thousands) are stacked up one of top of the other, and to avoid overheating, these rooms are always made sure to have air conditioning on full blast. Yes there are no windows, and yes, you need a jacket to stay there long, and yes, security is tight. No one gets in or out of the place without proper access rights. Trust me, I know. As for why Ulquiorra is working there.. well, sorry, I can't tell you right now :)  
_

Finally got him in the picture! and with both their POVs too. *grin* A favorite chapter is coming up very soon. Not sure how this Ulquiorra fares with the one in your minds, but I hope he's familiar enough for everyone to recognize :)

If he isn't recognizable, please give me a loud holler by hitting that review button, or send me a PM. Heck, even if he is familiar, go ahead and hit that review button and tell me.. I'd like to get some feedback from you!


	6. 05 The Tumbler

**AN:** I remembered Orihime's drawing of "My Future Self" in the manga, so I decided to pay a little homage to her ... artsy skills and wonderful imagination. Don't let my first AN statement trick you into a comfortable disposition. Just one look at the quote for this chapter and you should get the geist, (crap, now I'm using Hegel) as with all other chapters. I hope you're paying attention to all them *evil grin* There's no way you're _not_ going to know man behind the quote if you're into Ulquiorra, or what he stands for. I never said I was going to make chapters and chapters of blissfully happy moments all the time. I did warn that this is a human story. Yes, life is never fair :)

**Disclaimer: Bleach and its characters are owned by Tite Kubo. ****All other entities mentioned herein are proprietary to their respective owners - DC, Marvel, Warner Brothers, Wachowski Brothers. I may have missed a few. I admit they are not mine. Only the idea of this story is. Please don't sue me.**  


**Shades Of Gray**

**Chapter 05: The Tumbler  
**

* * *

_"Insanity in individuals is something rare; but in groups, parties, nations and epochs it is the rule."  
_

_- Frederick Neitzsche, German Philosopher  
_

* * *

Ulquiorra was certain he was not going thrilled for his nine o'clock schedule this morning. He sat on his table, attempting to resolve a particular problem with the task he had currently at hand. The elevator doors opened exactly on the dot at nine, he was reminded why.

"Good morning Cifer-san!" She said brightly.

Inoue Orihime stomped quickly into his office, attired in pale purple down coat going all the way down to her knees, and sporting an olive green wool jeep caps, with her auburn hair spilling out.

"Here you go!" Inoue smiled, "My hello-welcome-thank you-and-I-apologize drink all rolled into one! Look!"

Ulquiorra craned his face away from the monitor he was working on, to the direction of her voice, then following the path of the item she was grasping.

He stared at the object in her hand. It was a white tumbler with a black cap, simple on the onset, and could have been possibly to his liking. At least, if one ignored the ugly scribbles on it.

He could clearly see a crude attempt of a cross between Batman's head and Spiderman's telltale costume underneath the Dark Knight's black flowing cape etched on the surface, and the unspeakable abomination was holding on to a tree vine as if swinging from left to right across the tumbler. It was purely drawn with black permanent pen. The only other semblance of color was two green dots in place of the horrid monster's eyes.

He blinked. _What ... is that?_

His mind desperately wanted to make certain such a ridiculous ... _thing ..._ was actually a real, physical object. After the horrendous shock coming from first scan of the mass in her hands, his sight was treated with extreme visible distortions, almost to its unrecognizable extremities, whenever he attempted to refocus again on the chicken scratchings for the second time, or any attempts thereafter. The details seem to be trying to unravel themselves out of existence. It seemed that his instinct, and apparently, his subconscious, knew better, and was vainly trying to protect his fragile mind from leaning towards possible insanity.

And insanity was no stranger to him. No, not at all, but this little abomination was getting a breakneck throttle to the finish line.

He could not think of the scribbles in his mind, and therefore, they do not exist. _Descartes_ was indeed an intelligent, inquisitive man. He clearly knew what he was talking about.

"Creative." He deadpanned, feeling the throbbing spreading across his temples as he looked across to the purple clad woman in front of him, carefully avoiding to include the vision of the white tumbler in her hands.

To his internal dismay, she registered his comment as a form of encouragement. She promptly started explaining the details to him, her finger pointing to particular elements of the chicken scratchings that, to his extremely sensitive mind, was quickly and desperately trying to banish all traces of. The images shivered and trembled into some strange, abstract, unrecognizable art as she continued to slowly explain them in all its painful, excruciating detail.

"See, when you were trying to help me last weekend, I thought you looked like Spiderman, with you hanging on the wall like that and looking down at me... It was an impressive sight, really. But you were so impatient and angry and quiet the first time at the bakery, and you barely even talked to me and disappeared after the indoor climb, I decided you were more like Batman. He's like a brooding superhero-antihero, you know, just like you. Dark and mysterious –"

He could clearly see dark, billowing clouds forming at the periphery of her hands. There was a slight vibrating hum in the air. The hair on the backs of his neck started to react negatively toward the unseen static energy that was slowly brewing into an impressive thunderstorm.

He blinked his eyes and tried to refocus. Yet the woman continued to prattle on.

" - then I remembered the ropes that were holding on to me for safety. They were really important, you should've had safety ropes, I mean, no one would want to fall and die from broken bones and blood splattered all over the ground. That's really gruesome and sick! So I added a vine there knowing you were also like Tarzan swinging across the forest!" She smiled triumphantly. "Oh and of course, I had to add some sort of color, and since your eyes are the prominent feature in your physical anatomy, I added a bit of green, too!"

It was too much. The woman's words were completely illogical, second only to the ... _object._.. in her hands. He closed his eyes and tried to escape the disorientation. But her voice continued on, his unprotected ears at the mercy of the auburn haired intruder so early in the day. He inwardly sighed again, opening his eyes. _Pointless_.

He attempted to stop her, interjecting the words that he hoped could serve as a hint.

"I see," he stated with obvious indifference, trying to convey disinterestedness. Abject failure, in this case.

She started to turn the tumbler around towards the backside, "So in case you didn't get my explanation, … I wanted to make sure you did, so I wrote this at the other side of the tumbler, cause I think three heroes all together doesn't do you justice!"

And written in flowing, feminine handwriting were the words -

"Greatest Superhero!" she exclaimed.

The words snapped back into place. After being rid of the uncharacteristically violent art hidden away on the opposite side, the tumbler resumed back into a rigid, stable, distinct form of a normal, functional holder of body replenishing liquids.

"What is in the tumbler, woman?" he dared to ask, feeling apprehension at another full-fledged tirade coming from the anomaly in front of him.

"Well… I wasn't sure what tastes you had in food, so I just made my favorite. It's a surprise. But I hope you like it though," she suddenly said shyly.

_That was unexpectedly short_.

She waited expectantly, expecting him to reach for the tumbler.

The conversation seems to have come to an end.

"I will try it out later," he responded curtly.

A pause. It seems that the conversation has ended. Or so he thought.

"Cifer-san –"

He felt an uncomfortable grinding sensation on his head. His temper slightly notched up a few degrees.

"Do not call me that." He was getting tired of hearing his surname. It was not anything that he remotely liked. Even that blue haired colleague up at the fifth floor was allowed to address him via his first name, not that he needed any prompt. He rarely wrote his last name anywhere, and this woman kept repeating them like a mantra, even suffixing them with the ridiculous honorific. It was grating on his nerves.

"Cuatro-san?" she smiled.

"Ulquiorra." The one word answer came.

"Ok, Ulquiorra-san then."

"No, just Ulquiorra," he ordered. It was ludicrous to add a suffix, irregardless of custom. He never did understand the Japanese penchant of adding suffixes to one's name. Any suffix felt like a dangling fishhook tugging at his chin – quite wholly unnecessary. He did not appreciate feeling like a fish out of water.

"Oh. But calling you Ulquiorra sounds… so informal," she interjected. "I suppose it could okay since we're in a office setting, but it still feels strange for me."

Ulquiorra turned his head back to his monitors, paid no attention to the comment, and went back to his work.

* * *

She distractedly played with the ends of her coat sleeves as she saw the Cuatro withdraw. Last night, she figured that if she was going to get back into this hellish freezer – what an oxymoron – of an office, then she should come prepared. So she had pulled out her winter clothes from the storage and picked out the 'proper' Cuatro office attire. She was not planning to be left shivering again, in a witless, exposed state. Besides, at the moment, the owner of said office seemed to look like he was the prime reason the whole place was popsicle cold.

She had to admit that yesterday turned out much better than expected, but it was shameful to admit that she was completely blabbering her mouth out. Fortunately, the man didn't show any adverse reaction - she was still alive, breathing and wasn't chopped up into several pieces, wasn't she? But since yesterday came out comparatively quite normal, with the man mostly quiet and silent, she decided to just be her bubbly self, but with some strategic editing before all her thoughts spill out of her mouth.

Well, now the introductions were over. She still had work to do, and she decided that her second meeting with the sole fourth team wasn't going to go to waste. Up until now, all she managed to get out of him were his unresponsiveness and obsessive compulsion – still not enough information to work on the team building activity she was planning this weekend. She was dead set on making sure that everyone got something out of the planned event, and it wouldn't do to merely throw in a generic team building formula and merely receive a lukewarm reception with her efforts.

But after meeting the Cuatro yesterday, she decided that she needed something specifically tailored to match the exceptionally strange and quiet colleague in sitting front of her now. He looked anti-social, and she guessed that she wouldn't be far from being accurate to find him independently working on the games all by himself. That would be opposite of what she wanted to achieve, the theme being teamwork.

No, that definitely won't do.

She took in her surroundings, noticing there was no extra chair whatsoever, with the exception of the infamous exercise ball Ulquiorra was sitting on. Yes, definitely anti-social. Not even a chair for unexpected guests. It was obvious that people don't come in here often. It was a stark contrast to her previous meetings; She had gotten a fairly good idea with the two previous team leaders, Grimmjow, and the exceptionally tall, sinister-looking Nnoitra, whom she had bumped into, after coming back from her meeting with Gin. Grimmjow had an interesting rapport with the rest of him team, and Nnoitra, although quite scathing, did command a superior air with Tesla. Both team leads hated each other, but they still had some semblance of respect. They kept their teams well oiled, and generally tried to keep their own subordinates away from each other's throats.

She was talking with Grimmjow and surprisingly, a much more normal looking Yylfordt Granz, Syazel's brother, when the long haired, extremely tall Nnoitra and subordinate, Tesla came over. She became stuck in the middle of a growing heated exchange between two subordinates, including not so veiled threats, until Grimmjow quickly extinguished the rising tension by walking away and dragging Yylfordt with him. Not exactly conducive teamwork office material, but for the moment, should do.

Ulquiorra, on the other hand, was a harder nut to crack – she has yet to see him interact at all with any of the others - with him reportedly being away from the office most of the time, and remained alone in his own floor. Without a subordinate around to judge his reactions, she'll have the 'fortunate' or 'unfortunate' pleasure of drawing out his personality for herself.

Despite being so critical and analytical of him right now, she was being sincere with the tumbler – that was certainly outside anything connected to her work – and honestly wanted to thank the man. In her elation of meeting her savior, she let herself draw happily last night on the gift, an epiphany she had thought of - A personalized thank you tumbler, her cheery and excited head concocting the superhero idea for her savior.

Her goal was simple today. She wanted to know what kind of projects Ulquiorra worked on. It should say something about personality and his working style. She had tried to ask around about what kind of work Ulquiorra handled, but didn't get much. Both Grimmjow and Nnoitra merely said "_analytics_" after much prodding with the both of them, but nothing more aside from that. From their short responses, both of them clearly disliked the Cuatro - If there was one thing both of them agreed, it was their mutual animosity with Ulquiorra, and their obvious desire to be as far away from him as possible.

Whatever the colleague in front of her was working on, it didn't involve any one of the people she's already talked to. In fact, if she didn't see the organizational chart, she would probably have missed him. He didn't leave any sort of trace of his existence, and from what she heard from Grimmjow, Ulquiorra didn't work or show up in the office floors during regular office hours either.

She approached carefully, and discreetly placed the tumbler onto the side of his desk, being certain to position it away from anything lying on the top. The last thing she wanted to happen was to receive a flare up of his obsessive compulsiveness if she accidentally nudged anything of his by mistake. She was now standing beside him, and with a good view of the two gargantuan monitors – touchscreens – and in view of Ulquiorra, solitary and largely immobile, except for his long, slender fingers quickly flicking through several points in the screen.

There wouldn't have been any thing impressive in the image before her, if not for the fact that the solitary man's screen had characters scrolling up at a relatively fast rate. The only thing that would describe it was the same image she recalled from watching an American movie called the _Matrix_, where the protagonist was looking at a screen with green characters running across the monitors. Except Ulquiorra's were in standard black and white fonts. It was a bit surreal. She inched a bit closer to take a better look, hoping that he would not mind the intrusion.

Sure enough, he was still decidedly ignoring her and was intently still looking at the monitors, his fingers roving through them and seemingly plucking out pieces in what looked to be a huge, complex puzzle. One of the monitor catching his current attention looked like a huge upside down _Tetris_ board running on an extremely advanced level, except it was characters, not blocks, that were coming out, and at a ridiculously fast rate. To the best of what she saw, they didn't form any words – they were just characters.

Grimmjow had explained that they worked on software, computer applications that involved storing medical data and using those same data for getting some organized information, called _data modeling_. The rugged, blue haired man gave her a quick run though of the software his team was working on. She didn't understand much, but on the surface, most of them looked like the computerized cash register screens she would see when she went shopping. Several windows, nothing out of the ordinary for a regular computer user, and occasionally, there were some frills like pictures and charts on the screen.

What Ulquiorra had in his monitors were different, and looked completely foreign. She glanced at her colleague as he continued with a blank face on, and his eyes still with that glazed look on him. Contrary to the amount of information he was facing – whatever they were – the pale skinned man was calmly sitting, and sat perfectly balanced on his personal exercise ball with an absolutely blank face on. With streaming lines of _something_ on his screen, one would've expected a look of utter concentration, but his eyebrows indicated nothing of sort. He merely looked like he was... "bored" was the closest thing she could pin his expression to. Bored, waiting for weeds to show up on the screen, and then he would navigate his fingers to pluck them out of his personal garden.

She tried again to move her eyes, in a vain attempt to read whatever it was flitting on his screen, but to no avail. There were glimpses of characters, but difficult to make any sense. They were merely blurs to her.

She was expecting something a bit more normal, but this was unarguably at the utter end of the spectrum. Right then and there, her eyes still watering from effort she had to do to concentrate on the flitting characters on his screen, she decided Ulquiorra was definitely _not_ of normal capacity.

She was doubtful at all he noticed her slight approach again, if not for the sudden, quick flit of his green eyes towards her, before returning back to his original interest. His perpetual slight frown was still on his face.

_Oh look, you probably missed a line or two,_ she thought inwardly, giggling. _He didn't say anything much to my approach, so I guess that's my cue to go ahead._

"So, what exactly do you do? I notice everyone seemed to have subordinates under them, except for you, and I wonder exactly what kind of projects you working on?"

"Data and design analysis, and systems efficiency," came the disinterested reply.

_Ohhhhh-kay._ That answer didn't explain anything. She was quite proficient with computers in her daily life, but her familiarity with them probably didn't stretch to the professional working level. She was familiar with the term "development", having done some blogging a few years back, when "developing" meant a little bit of customization here and there on her blog page, but they were just for her personal use.

She supposed that some planning phase had to be involved when managing the Arrancar projects, similar to planning for a thesis or a research paper that required a large scope or needed a length of time for study to complete. How the pale skinned man in front of her fitted into that equation was still a question mark. It didn't help that whatever was flitting across his screen was still an absolute conundrum. She had a hard time seeing them, so as far as she knew, there weren't any words being formed, it looked like pure gibberish mix of some characters. For the life of her, she had no idea what his words meant, or kind of work he actually did.

She needed more information.

"So what does that exactly mean?" she egged on.

"I make things run faster," he replied tersely and tapped the monitor. The scrolling stopped. He didn't look like he was happy explaining anything to anyone, with his face angled away from her direction, likely giving her the cold shoulder and willing her to disappear.

"I see." She raised her index finger to her lips, thoughtfully.

Actually, she didn't. Ulquiorra's responses were like one word answers. He barely answered the question, and he did so without giving anything out. And now she was suddenly hearing a bit of petulance in his voice.

He was really unresponsive. This wasn't coming out the way she expected. Maybe she needed to look for answers elsewhere, or at least, for another time. But she didn't want to leave with a sour note. For all she knew, the man was scheduled to be out of the office for the rest of the week. She had to give it one more try.

A random impish streak suddenly hit her. She couldn't help it, but all she could see was a spoiled child in front of her, instead of a colleague she needed to be acquainted with. Lines were usually blurred with Orihime. She's always seen people as friends, good friends, or not-yet-but-will-soon-be-friends friend. She wanted to see how the petulant child would take it if she just inched herself a little bit more than where she was right now, at least, in a discreet way. It probably wasn't the best course of action, but Orihime followed her spontaneity more often than she knew. Her friends were used to her random behaviors, and it was partly this gut feel, playful randomness that shaped her to who she was now. It wasn't the type of nasty spontaneity that went out to hurt anyone, but one that came from an terrible, unquenchable itch of good naturedness – like an honest pinch in the cheek to someone who did not like theirs being tugged, or a opinion-changing warm, quick embrace to a touch averse friend, a good natured laugh in an embarrassing situation or just a simple silly comment.

She usually never failed to connect with people. That spontaneity made people feel at ease around her, or during inopportune moments, let her get away with a confused, bewildered mug with her friends. Because of it, it was also easy for her to interact with different people. For others, maybe it was manipulation, but for her, it came so naturally that it didn't deserve a second thought. She usually never had any problems, her spontaneity seemed to know how to act emphatically towards people. True, her open disposition left her exposed to unexpected incidents and bad intentions, but it also left her wide open to opportunities that would have otherwise narrowed down anyone else's world.

To say that the world was her oyster could have possibly been referring to Inoue Orihime.

Her eyes softened as she looked back at Ulquiorra. He definitely looked like a spoiled child, so she did what felt natural to her at that moment. She noticed that he would occasionally adjust himself on the ball he was resting on, balancing himself again, likely as his back and abdominal muscles sought a rest from the constant strain. She innocently brushed her leg against his seat, just light enough to nudge it a bit, but without being overly obvious that she did. To her elation, at the corner of her eyes, she saw his eyes blink as he unconsciously adjusted his balance, noticing how effectively it reset his irritation. She smiled knowingly, still looking straight at the monitors, entirely avoiding a direct confrontation.

And now she has his _divided_ attention. It was interesting to note how easily that worked. And to a grown man, no less.

_I guess if you're faced with a private person, the best way to approach his space is to go sideways, instead of head on._

But she was fully aware she wasn't merely talking to a child. This one looked quite smart, a bit arrogant and strung up, since he clearly seemed to have decided he needed no one to form a team. A precarious child with the IQ of hundred thirty, she guessed. Someone who probably needed to be intellectually challenged and discussed with. She didn't have a exemplary IQ, but she knew they weren't the have-all of intellect. She knew she had a high EQ, and that could make all the difference.

As non-chalantly as possible, she quietly spoke, making a rather good attempt of mirroring his usual demeanor. "I thought that it was primarily IT, but seeing these," she pointed lightly at the monitors, "it seems that your work is not merely versed in computers..."

But now that the screens have stopped rolling, she could clearly see some rather surprising recognizable patterns.

"... Except… are these gene sequencing data?"

She pointed her fingers on an area of the frozen screen she thought looked similar to what she's seen in the medical journals she was browsing before she left Todai. If there was such a thing as an _on_ switch for Ulquiorra, then his next response confirmed that she had pushed the right button.

"Merely small sample sets. I'm adjusting an interface to analyze the gene sequence data in several stages," he automatically supplied in his monotone, touching the screen again, and the frozen lines suddenly started scrolling.

"How long for a prototype?" she stared at the rolling text in front of her eyes, painfully aware that there must be a reason for all this madness, observing his slender fingers flying through the touchscreen monitor. She can barely see the characters as they already rolled through the screen and off to the edge. She wasn't sure if his work was entirely accurate, but this was Arrancar, and they weren't known in the medical field for nothing.

His fingers continued to deftly touch on several points before they rolled off the screen. "Three months for the working prototype. It was already sent to US for trial testing. This is the secondary scan of the data."

"By yourself?" she tried to ask in a subdued voice, even though she was starting to feel a bit incredulous about what she was hearing.

"Yes," she heard him continue to respond monotonously beside her.

Her eyes narrowed.

_He's got to be joking, right? To pull that off, at the very least he must have eyes like a hawk. And an impressive memory to go along with it.  
_

She looked back at the face of the man beside her. He didn't seem like he was joking. His eyes were still glued to the monitors, glazed and yet, emotionless at the same time. _  
_

She was suddenly very impressed. If it was true, then it meant Ulquiorra was already finished with a prototype for this work. It meant that it had passed with flying colors, in a _ridiculously_ short, record breaking amount of time anyone in the field has probably heard of. It took a great deal of resource to setup gene sequencing analysis. She knew for a fact that a whole department in Todai was solely dedicated to do what the man beside her was doing, alone, and they have been working on it for twice or even three times longer than he did, just to generate and wade through the data for a particular gene mutation.

By the way the speed of the screen was scrolling, it wasn't a stretch to say that he was doing at least five people's worth of work.

Orihime, in her excitement, forgot herself. She excitedly turned towards her colleague, and exclaimed, "But.. but… that's amazing!"

Ulquiorra turned his head with her loud exclamation, suddenly very aware how close the auburn haired woman was beside him. His head was throbbing from her earlier spectacle with the tumbler, and his irritation was not being aided by the growing number of questions the woman was posing to him. He was again feeling the sensation of being sucked into a whirlpool of vacuum, which was not very pleasant at all, and he wasn't taking any more questions. He had work to do. The woman was completely oblivious to his unresponsiveness. They usually worked with the others, but considering his recent experiences with her, she didn't look to be normal in anyway. The woman barged in, instead of backing off, unlike most people. A immediate case in point: He was staring a few inches away from her clear, brown eyes, and it was definitely a few inches too near for his taste. His temper spiked.

"Woman, I do not have time to answer your questions. There are things I need to attend to, and they require the rest of my time from now till then to complete them. I assumed that you were merely staying here for a few minutes, seeing that we already had most of our introductions yesterday. You're currently impinging on my schedule," he pointed out tersely.

Orihime sighed inwardly. It seems his work was a perfect match to his personality after all. _Efficiently brutal and systematically rude_. That wasn't about to deter her though. As much as he had a job to accomplish, so did she. So she kindly prodded on, ready to explain the situation, before rescinding to his request.

Unfortunately for Orihime, Ulquiorra at the moment was right about near to boiling point. The day had barely started, and yet he already had developed a throbbing migraine that started less than fifteen minutes ago courtesy of the woman in front of him. He was still recovering from a distortion episode where his mind was forcibly trying to ignore a certain white tumbler with chicken scratchings, and was now decidedly experiencing the feeling of being forced into a toilet bowl with a large plunger. He was not in a very good mood, and was literally seeing red across all boards. He closed his eyes to steady himself.

And yet ... the woman prattled on. With that _goddamned _dangling honorific suffix at the end.

"Look, Ulquiorra-san. I'm sure we both have jobs to do, and I would like to finish them as promptly as you do yours. I'm merely making a friendly conversation –"

_A friendly conversation?_ He opened his eyes. This was more than he could handle.

In a rare case of show of verbal eptitude uncharacteristic of the usually silent, green-eyed man, he forcibly made his voice heard, just to stop the woman in front of him from making any more incessant noises. He also sharply pushed one button in his keyboard – one that he used from emergencies. Notably created for a certain blue-haired colleague.

"You seem to be utterly clueless. Which part of 'impinging on my schedule' did you not understand?"

He determinedly stood up. "Case in point. You seem to like carrying lengthy inconsequential conversations that deter others from keeping their appointments, much like your conversation last week with your orange haired friend."

"Excuse me-?"

"And you make a nuisance of yourself last weekend by attempting to climb something that is clearly out of your capacity."

"It was a beginner's course!"

"Clearly not."

"Wh-WHAT?"

"You were moving into the advanced section. Were you so idiotic to not even notice that? You clearly weren't being attentive. Likely making _friendly _conversation while you were being briefed. All of you were making a loud ruckus while that was going on. Or maybe you decided paying attention was inconsequential, too, as you are doing now."

He grabbed her wrists. Orihime eyes grew wide when she saw his green eyes concentrate on her. They weren't glazed anymore. They looked furious, and they were looking _straight_ at her.

He took another step, closing the gap between them. Alarm bells were ringing in her head at that same moment. Ulquiorra face didn't change, but she saw his eyes further darken, and they looked pissed, very pissed. She took a stuttering step back, but was stopped by his hands on her wrists. She tugged at them, and was surprised to feel his fingers slightly loosening his hold. She quickly slipped her hands out of his fingers and took a big step back.

That didn't stop the Cuatro's verbal barrage, though.

"You are out of your place to be in this office at all. If this job requires that you dally around and attain unachievable goals based on your station, then you certainly fit the bill. I find it hard to believe that trash like you would be managing anything in this company."

There was a soft chime, and the sound of opening elevator doors. She looked behind her to her surprise to find them opening.

"Could you kindly step out yourself, or would you rather I personally show you out of my floor?"

"How did the lift -?"

"Still more irrelevant conversations, I see," moving from his location and grabbing her wrists again. This time it was painful. He tugged her unceremoniously toward the lift door and pushed her in, at the same time quickly pressing the ground floor button then followed by the close button, before backing himself out of the lift doors.

"It's time you leave this job. You're clearly unqualified even to follow the simplest of directions," he voiced icily, with the lift doors already in the move to close. "And make sure you remove that ridiculous cap off your head when you step out of the building. It is hardly winter."

* * *

Orihime fingered the green jeep wool cap in her hands distractedly as she waited for the lift to arrive at her office floor.

She's been royally ejected by his eminence. She thought that yesterday was quite successful, but she didn't count on Ulquiorra Cifer to be _that_ temperamental. She rubbed her wrists, remembering the way her pale skinned colleague held on them painfully. They were already slightly bruised from the last time he pulled her up, the one that kept her from freefalling to the ground, and now it was probably going to go from bad to worse with this incident. Ironically, this one pulled her down, instead.

She quietly walked back to her cubicle, still slowly massaging her hands to make sure they don't bruise again. She hasn't done this in years.

She slumped into her chair, a bit dazed from the aftermath of her interaction with the Cuatro. This felt even worse than the time she was about to fall. She sighed. Well, that didn't turn out quite as well as she thought.

It was quite a blow up, that was.

She didn't appreciate being jerked around; the last time she was in the vicinity of anything remotely violent was during grade school, and that was when other kids took note of her orange hair and yanked her around, bullied. Those have stopped since Tatsuki taught her a few tricks on defense, but she did admit that she's gotten rusty over the years. Back then, she sprained one or two wrists for a while, but hated the sickening feeling of hurting people that came afterwards. Tatsuki stuck to her like glue and did it for her instead, and eventually kids her age got the idea that she wasn't an easy target anymore. Besides, as people grew out of their childhoods, she found that less and less people were bothered to become physical. It was like an indoctrination to society's culture… they become more conscious of private space. Being around her friends helped too. If you're surrounded by the likes of Ichigo, Chad and Renji, people tend to go the opposite direction. They were natural repellants for trouble all throughout highschool. Unfortunately for her, she's suddenly been dumped back in time, again all alone to fend for herself; specifically into an adult nursery, starting last week. She took a mental note to practice all the moves her best friend has taught her, if not for self-defense from the rowdy circus she now calls office, then for just herself. She was living alone now, after all.

Her thoughts came back to her earlier incident again. So much for hoping for a decent thank you. She doubted that the pale-skinned cuatro was in any mood for talking any more today. But she'll have to try again, sooner or later. The man was anything but an anomaly, and if she was right, she'll probably have to work on him the most. Everyone else, regardless of their behavior, were actually sociable to a degree, if sociable meant continuous foul bantering and connecting fists. No one gave an inkling of being violent with her, which was a relief, but it would do to be a bit certain in case she was stuck in the middle of a rowdy fist fight between teams. This job was getting to be challenging to say the least. Her patience and understanding were what kept her open to many people, but having to literally babysit a whole group of misfits was definitely going to be a challenge.

Her eyes travelled to her desk, seeing a few unfamiliar folders on her desk.

_Oh what's this?_

* * *

For the second time this week, Inoue stared at the background file in her hands.

This particular file was longer than all of the others she had screened through.

She shuffled through the sheets again. Ulquiorra's file ran for five pages. The others had two or three, he alone had five._ How could anyone get into so much trouble?_

She has never seen a file with a history of arrests so long. Granted, the rest of her colleagues had, at most, consisted of five prior convictions in their past, but none had a list of minor aged arrests below the age of eight; And then at some point, Ulquiorra seemed to have been a regular tenant at the police detention for several months before hitting the age of fifteen. Most of them were suspected drug-related abuse, but they were also accompanied by confirmed reports of violent and aggressive behavior.

She thought back to the image of the said man now. Seemingly highly obsessive compulsive, an image of quiet stoic-ness, particular, careful. If she hadn't seen the background files, she would've concluded he was a smart, quiet but arrogant man who always aced exams during school and saw everyone beneath him, and with a mean obsessive compulsive streak. But in the spectrum of humanity, it would still be put under the "slightly abnormal" shelf.

Well, he was still smart and quiet, but after going through his file, she came across the second shock of the day.

He didn't have a university degree. How that was possible, she wasn't sure. But wherever he came from, he managed to get himself to where he is now, working on something as complicated as gene sequencing. Yes, he was smart. She'd also bet he was also a fast and efficient worker, judging by the non-existent size of a team and pulling off a prototype within three months. Extremely efficient, and analytical mind. If one merely read the first section of his file, no one would guess that it would end up with the image of the man she saw earlier this morning.

She double checked the contents. There were no reported medical reports for substance abuse, and it seemed as if the Cuatro's life just abruptly made a turn around overnight after the age of eighteen. She shifted to his family background, but the only mention were from German-Japanese parents. She also doubted the drug abuse in the reports, although it may be possible; but for someone to be suspected of such at an early, young age sounded to her just as ridiculously implausible.

What also surprised her the most was his academic progress. He was not an achieving student; he actually dropped out several times and was only able to graduate middle school three years late, if barely.

Clearly, Arrancar had a particular talent of finding people who are at the bottom of the barrel, their gross wanton disregard for the historical arrest records of their employees edging them to a mindblowing advantage in terms of getting quality human resource. It brightened her to know that such an equal opportunity employer existed – in fact, doesn't her situation right now prove that point? She had no undergraduate degree, no real experience, and yet, they offered her a job that had her going to top-level managers on a daily basis. She could probably even be allowed to command them to don coconut bras and hula skirts and ask them to do a hawaian luau. She giggled silently.

She was without any prior conviction, but the fact remains, the company offered a virtually untested, inexperienced job applicant a salary up par to a regular employee, not a part time one, and she was almost sure that there were other candidates vying for the position she had now, and they selected her. It was certainly an encouraging thought.

Out of curiosity, she checked the other pages, searching for Gin's 'personal' contribution. Ulquiorra's extra photo was almost exactly identical as his original employee photo, except it was a full profile from head to toe, her eyes travelling back to the face of the man who still wearing his usual frown_._ A small unease came over her and her eyes suddenly rolled away from the image. After a second, she looked back. For a lack of a better picture, Gin instead had drawn two horns on top of Ulquiorra's head, and a forked tail, evil looking clawed wings, and scrawled on the bottom of the picture was written: _Party pooper. Help me get a better photo? _

She remembered her ungraceful exit from the fourth floor, then smiled. Maybe just for this once, she'd be nice and help the CFO with his request. She'd have to think of something good, though._  
_

* * *

"Grimmjow-san, do you have any idea what Cifer-san is working on?" They were in the fifth floor pantry, where she dropped by to take a break with Grimmjow.

"No idea at the moment."

"Excuse me?"

"If you haven't noticed already, the freak keeps to his own little world. He gets his project assignments from Aizen, like the rest of us. I'll tell you one thing, either he's stuck in his office, or he is away for weeks at a time. Most of us prefer him doing the latter."

"Why is that?"

"He doesn't talk to us, and we definitely don't want talk to him. Hell, the ass almost never talks. He's always on fucking mute. I'd like that find out that mute button one day and keep pressing his fucking buttons. Would be freaking fun to watch!"

"Yes, I notice he doesn't talk a lot…."

"Oh, but when he does, he's a keeper. Usually when it's an order, a fact, or something oozing in sarcasm. But mostly orders. Or when he's pissed off," he grinned.

"Oh yes, I noticed."

"You did?"

"He got angry at me this morning, I just got kicked out of his floor…" she blushed at the admission.

"What?"

"I was just talking to him about some introductions, and he pretty much verbally attacked me. I didn't even hit the lift buttons, and they just opened and he dragged me into them…"

"ALREADY? Holy crap, you already got my personal treatment pretty fast, what the hell did you do?"

"Personal treatment?"

"He has access to the building security – one time I had to work with him, and had to spend a couple of weeks in that goddamned hell hole of his. I need noise, its normal, but the abnormal freak didn't like me using his seat as a basketball…. I guess you can say I brought him to the brink; I made a hell of a game out of it actually – it was fun pissing him off. So he made a special one button key just to bring up the lifts when he was pissed – practically did the same thing to me. You know, the dragging…"

Orihime stared at Grimmjow. He looked almost half a foot taller than Ulquiorra, and likely heavier. Grimmjow liked to pull up his sleeves during office hours, and it was obvious that the blue haired man was heavily muscled. "How in the world can Ulquiorra-san 'drag' you out?"

"The asshole is deceptively strong for some strange reason. No one around here wants to get in his way, and I mean both figuratively, and physically."

"You mean he's not normally that ill tempered?"

"Hell, no. You must've pushed some buttons! What did you do?"

"I don't know. One minute I was talking to him, and he suddenly snapped." She really didn't know. Maybe she was talking too much? But then, that shouldn't be worse than what Grimmjow was doing, was it? "I was merely asking him what kind of projects he would usually work on."

"Well you must've done something right," he smiled wickedly, "You have _got_ to tell me!"

"But I... dont ..know..."

"Have you changed your mind with the methadone yet?" he grinned.

She shook his head.

"Alright, up to you. But I still think the asswipe deserves it."

"But what does he specialize in?"

"You keep asking the same questions over and over again, Princess. He's not my favorite topic."

"Please?"

"Oh, alright. The loony is really good with analysis, mostly in large set of samples and data. And algorithms. It's all about efficiency for him. When he _is_ here, he works a job that screws us all over. Almost all of us work on functionality – he's the only one that comes over and tells us in all his finest brutal sensitivity to rework something because, and I quote 'This is trash. It is highly inefficient and too inanely slow.' With his official stamp of 'Highly Unacceptable' approval."

"We all pretty much wish he has something else to work on, otherwise, he's metaphorically breaking down our necks. The anal prick moves around as if he's the king of quality around here."

"You would like that title for yourself, wouldn't you, Sexta?" Ulquiorra's low voice suddenly making its way toward their ongoing conversation. She looked up to find him with his dark coat hanging across his shoulders.

"Speak of the devil. You mean being an anal prick? Of course not. I wouldn't want to knock you off your crown, your Highness."

A thin line formed across the Cuatro's lips. "How generous of you. If you could just do a better job than a peon, then you would at least get a crown for being a good one. I'll make you a paper crown from one of your useless design blueprints. No man should ever suffer seeing those useless things Aizen passes to me for review." He raised a folder at Grimmjow.

"I couldn't possibly," feigned the blue haired man. "You're one of a kind. I couldn't possibly measure up."

A pause from Grimmjow. And then:

"Speaking of measurements, I remember having a tape measure here somewhere," he started to rummage on himself for said tape measure, when Orihime suddenly moved herself back in surprise. Grimmjow brought up a wicked looking serrated hunting knife almost six inch long from the hilt, with a nasty looking hook at the side. The hook looked like they were for opening bottle caps and tin cans, but she was almost sure Grimmjow was referring to hooking something else and pulling it out. And besides, those were definitely NOT standard office tools. "I'm sure we can prove it right now. Let's get your ass checked. Want to see how far up this goes?"

"Unfortunately I have appointments to do. I do not have time to humor your childish antics." He answered coldly. "Take that away before I make you end up nicking your own fingers, Sexta."

"So says the tightwad," Grimmjow spat. "I can take you on anytime."

"Hardly, even with that glorified steak knife of yours. You may take me on after you get your designs straightened out. They need a bit of work." The dark haired man coldly threw a folder at Grimmjow, "Feel free to ask Aizen-sama about them if you have any objections, I've already sent him a soft copy of your work."

Orihime balked at the entire exchange of verbal _and_ physical threats between the two leads, the level of hostility easily surpassing the tension she had experienced between Nnoitra and Grimmjow by a wide margin. It was a cauldron of explosives a few temperatures away from ignition point. She uneasily adjusted her stance against the pantry counter to reassure herself.

It was a mistake.

Ulquiorra eyes suddenly travelled to her, as if just noticing the orange haired woman for the first time since he had started to converse with Grimmjow. She inched herself slightly away from him, leaning further back into the pantry counter she was supporting herself with. Orihime may be impressed with his intellect, but she was now going to admit to herself that she had been acting quite strangely all day after this morning's encounter with the man: all the time when going through his files, she had intentionally avoided looking at his picture for too long.

She had already decided that she didn't like those eyes of his, glazed or not, especially after seeing them looking straight at her earlier this morning.

An awkward, eerie moment transpired, as she stood frozen in her place while the eyes bored down on her. Then it was broken just as quickly as he turned his head away, and spoke emotionlessly, without indicating who he was referring to.

"You may want to choose who you acquaint yourself with. Two wrongs do not make a right."

And before either of them could react, Ulquiorra was already on his way out of the office doors.

"Fuck, I hate that son of a bitch!" Grimmjow was literally fuming as he picked up the folder, and walked towards his side of the floor, leaving a confused Orihime by herself.

The childish banter wouldn't have bothered Orihime much, if the man beside her didn't pull out and just blantantly threatened a coworker with a ridiculously large knife, out in open plain for all to see. Despite having a clear advantage of a dangerous weapon on himself, Grimmjow didn't look like he was going to make good on this threats. If Orihime knew better, she would've thought that the friendly blue haired man just held on to his knife for his own protection rather than anything else.

Grimmjow was clearly the bigger of the two, but he acted as if the opposite were true instead. Then she remembered the man's eyes darting towards her, and decided that maybe she understoood Grimmjow more than she let on. In any case, she didn't want to be in front of anything like what Grimmjow had on his hands, unless it was at home cutting up fish to make sakana-paste.

She looked about, but no one seemed to have minded what had just transpired. As if this was a regular, daily occurrence.

She was now having second thoughts on the upcoming team building session. If these people were openly violent in the office, she can just imagine how a casual, non-mediated office setting would turn out.

Maybe there was a reason the company needed to hire someone to specifically improve inter-team cooperativeness, after all. It might be a good idea to go back to the drawing board and make some slight adjustments for the upcoming team building this coming Saturday. If nothing else, but to ensure that the number of people walking into the team building, would also be the same number of people walking out, alive and breathing.

* * *

**AN:** _(1) Descartes - French philosopher that was known for the latin phrase "Cogito ergo sum", or in english, "I think, therefore I am". You probably also have heard him in your Math classes :)  
_

_(2) analytics - an area of research for the purpose of discovering meaningful patterns in large repository of data.  
_

_(3) Matrix screen - I am not going to bother explaining. Picture speaks a thousand words. Go search for "matrix screen saver" and you should hit something.  
_

_(4) Tetris - a simple tile-matching puzzle video game that has differently shaped blocks falling from top to the bottom of the screen.  
_

Ok, was sick of staring at this chapter with gazillions of re-re-re-re-revisions, so I just published it. Alright. I had to let off. Now that 's over with. Time to go back to my usual AN comments below:

This is not a wordless Ulquiorra. But then we all know he becomes pretty chatty when he gets pissed off :) Orihime's got to do some serious, thorough planning for the team building event for the coming weekend though, unless she wants to end up with everyone trying to kill each other off, including Ulquiorra. Or should I say, especially Ulquiorra? Nnoitra and Grimmjow are particularly antagonistic towards him *grin* Careful planning is _essential_.

If she fails then... well, that wouldn't do; it would mean an abrupt end for this fanfic rofl. Shall I instead get Ulquiorra to kill everyone off in a gruesome way and have them both ride off into the sunset? NOT XP I have two chapters hidden away that I absolutely loved writing. No way those chapters aren't going to get into this fic.

The chapter is a bit loaded, I eventually conceded that it was a necessary evil to write it in this way. Hopefully it doesn't affect the overall chapter too much. Orihime _is_ the protagonist of the story, and I needed her to acquaint with the "wonderful" world of the office spaces of Arrancar Corp, in bits and pieces.

Reviews or PMs please? I'd like to know how this chapter came off for you... since its a bit one-sided of sorts. Don't fret. I can promise it will be the last of these slow moving chapters, at least for a long while.


	7. 06 The Team Building I

**AN:** So... This is one of the more enjoyable and favorite chapters I've written. It was originally a two section single chapter, and I lazily left the first part out because I was too excited to do the second section. When I came back recently and started adding details for the first part, and it turned into this huge monster of a chapter... so now I had to split it into two, otherwise it would have been too much to swallow for one sitting. (yes, lengthwise, but also content-wise. You will see what I mean when you read it) Its quite long, and can be separated into three parts. Feel free to take a break after each part of this roller coaster ride (you'll know when, I'm sure.) Anyway, here's hoping you guys enjoy it too.

**Disclaimer: Bleach and its characters are owned by Tite Kubo**

**Shades Of Gray**

**Chapter 06: The Team Building I  
**

* * *

___"The only things that evolve by themselves in an organization are disorder, friction, and malperformance."_

_- Peter Drucker, Father of Modern Management  
_

* * *

"This is really fun! I like this team building, Orihime!"

"Lilynette-chan! ... Please! We're not ... playing tag! And we haven't ... started ... the team building yet!" Orihime called out in breathless puffs as she tried to chase the small girl across Gin's large, expansive European garden, complete with a mini maze.

"Lilynette... LILYNETTE!" a lazily lying down Starrk, lying on the fresh grass, called after his charge, "Its 'Orihime nee-chan'..."

"Oh sorry! I really like this team building, Orihime nee-chan!" she corrected, still running away from the auburn haired woman.

They were at the silver haired man's residence. She needed a relatively large space for her first set of activities, and after showing the CFO her final plans, he offered his place as a venue for the first day, all the while still trying to get her to switch her job. She was expecting his place to be a more-than-large-enough size of an apartment, but as she followed the strange directions he provided to her the day before - a crudely drawn map by his own hands, a set of numbers and a compass, instead of flat out giving her his exact address - she found herself in front of two large, elaborate, intricately decorated steel gates, in the most affluent part of Karakura.

His residence included a stately European garden at the front - the same one she was currently running across - a small quiet, tranquil Japanese garden at the back, a small persimmon farm, an indoor personal tennis court, an Olympic-sized swimming pool, and a large, impressive two storey, high ceiling mansion situated in the center of the estate. It was more than enough space for the team building. In fact, it was too much, and was now causing the predicament she was in.

It started off quite in the wrong direction when she found out that the people made themselves a bit too comfortable. Everyone came separately, and since she didn't know Gin's place was so big, she didn't specify a meeting place inside the compound. And people didn't bother to check in with her, seeing all the extra activities they could be doing instead. So for the past hour, she had been running across the whole place to find all her missing participants. And even when she did find them, it didn't take long for their attention to wander, and she would be back to where she started. With nothing.

Orihime saw Lilynette turn sharply, sprinting away from her in the opposite direction, so she skidded herself and changed course to follow the small child. "Lilynette-chan, please come back here-"

She hit something and was sent stumbling back a long way to the other direction.

"Owww..." She rubbed her head and opened her eyes. That's when she realized what she had collided with.

Her eyes widened. "I'm.. I'm s-s-orry Ulquiorra-san!" _Why was he here?_

She wasn't sure Ulquiorra would be coming. She had sent out the email invites to everyone last week, and he was the only one who didn't provide a reply, so she marked his status as 'uncertain'. But it seemed like he came after all.

Ulquiorra was sitting on his bottom, his face looking like he was hit by a truck. Then he started to quickly stand and dust his attire, much like how a normal person would be doing to make himself look respectable...

_Respectable! Just what she needed!  
_

"Unngh...," she picked herself up, her breaths still labored as she stood. And then she ran again. But this time, it was to the man she had collided with.

She wasn't about to worry about her apprehensions with the Cuatro. Her team building was already going into shambles, and it hasn't even officially started yet. This was definitely more important. She had spent two weeks since the start of her job to get to this one event in order, and it was her only chance. The constant reminder of Gin's three-cupcake reply had been on her mind the whole week, and she wanted to find out exactly who was making her do all this. She needed to make sure she do a perfect job... hopefully it would be, if she first managed to get everyone together, stay put and not wander off from the meeting area.

And the man is going to help her. At least she hoped so.

Ulquiorra showed up in Gin's residence, and that meant he was planning to join the team building. And she was certain that if he planned for something, he was definitely going to make sure it was done. Can't get more rigid and obsessive compulsive than _that_.

"Could ... you help ... me ... please?" She panted breathlessly as she pointed at the large nearby structure at the edge of the green. "The ... team building is going to be in the ... indoor tennis area, I just need ... someone to stay there, and keep ... everyone from leaving..."

She tried to recover herself from all the running she's done, her arms resting on her knees for support, her eyes closed from all the exertion she had already gone through for the past hour. She was bushed, so she didn't notice him eyeing her up and down for a long moment. She only heard silence.

_He isn't responding. Maybe it was a bit too much to ask._ "If you don't want to -"

"Yes," the rigid answer came.

Her head popped up. He was already looking away from her and angled towards the tennis courts.

"Oh, ... thank you, thank you!" she said as she prepared herself to chase Lilynette again, "I will get everyone there as soon as possible... I promise!" Even before she finished her sentence, he was already walking towards his destination.

She can't believe her luck. He actually showed up and was even helping out. The man wasn't her favorite team lead, but she still wanted him to join the team building. Part of her wanted to see how he managed with the others, and this was her only chance to do so. It would've been impossible to get him to join the rest of the people during office days. It was one of her other objectives for the weekend. At least, it would be, if he showed up.

On the other hand, Syazel did reply to her invitation; he turned her down. _Talk about a supportive manager._

She saw Lilynette sprinting towards the far meadow. She started chasing the agile youth, her legs feeling a bit lighter. _Let's hope this is a good sign!_

* * *

"All right everyone!" Orihime announced brightly, eyeing the finally complete set of participants standing in a circle in front of her. It took her another whole hour to personally search and bring each one of them towards the indoor tennis court, but she had to admit it was satisfying to see the list of team leads becoming more and more complete each time she towed another person back. She wasn't sure how Ulquiorra actually managed to get them to stay put, but each time she entered with another participant, he was found sitting on the floor, eyeing the others on the other side of the court like a hawk.

"Thanks for taking your weekend off for the company, everyone. We're going to have two fun filled days starting right now!" She pulled out the pens and several sheets of paper from the sling bag hanging on her shoulders. "To start it off, we're going to have a game called _Two Truths and a Lie -_"

"Oh shit, that lame lousy ass game. Haven't played that since I was still wetting my pants."

Orihime heard Nnoitra's insensitive comment, and tried to keep her head. This was the best thing she could think of, as she figured everybody wouldn't have trouble slipping in a lie or two. Before she could continue, another voice joined in.

"Why don't you write in how many women you've 'hit on', you low-life," Grimmjow sarcastically suggested, taking a step towards Nnoitra. "Maybe I can finally drag you to the police with an actual confession. _Then_ I can get rid of your disgusting mug from my floor."

Noitra smiled toothily at the man who stood beneath his towering seven-foot frame.

"Try me, jackass. I bet I can fuck you so hard you're not going to be able to stand on your two short, wussy feet."

"Screw you, Nnoitra."

The tall man gave a evil grin. "So you _do_ want to try... I've always liked to try it with an audience."

Orihime shut her eyes. Is everything going to be like this the whole day?

"Infantile," An unexpected low, rigid voice declared. "If both of you do not cease this instant, I will decapitate _both_ your oral and sexual apparatuses myself." Apparently, both Grimmjow and Nnoitra have overlooked the Cuatro, who was standing between them.

Surprisingly, both of them slowly and cautiously backed off.

She took a curious, surprised glance at Ulquiorra. This was the first time she had heard him speak without being spoken to, or having a 'planned' objective. So he _can_ banter. An insult banter, and a very violent one, but still banter, nevertheless. At least now she knew he was also stoically and rudely the same with the others, not just with her.

But she let that one slide. So far he has been helpful the whole morning, and stopped the Quinta and Sexta from interrupting the activity. Maybe he really was not so anti-social after all.

Thankful for the interruption, she cleared her throat, and continued her explanation.

"I'll be passing along some papers and pens, and you will need to write three statements. Like the game title, you need to write two statements about yourself that are true, and one that's a lie," she handed the pens and papers to be passed around, "You'll be showing them to everyone else afterwards, and we're going to guess which one is the false statement. Clear?"

She glanced at everyone's reactions, most of them looking lukewarm with the task, and didn't really care for any sort sharing.

She held on to herself, fast. It was just the first game. She needed an icebreaker because people were mostly antagonistic towards each other, but didn't really spend enough effort to know more about their colleagues. She hoped that this game would do some good. Besides, she wanted to know more about each of them too, so it was also to her benefit.

"I'll give everyone two minutes to write on your sheet, and then we'll start with me and do it in a clockwise direction."

Despite the lukewarm response, everyone started to get themselves busy. Except for the Cuatro, who remained motionless, still holding his pen and paper on his hands. She approached him. She had to admit, she was starting to warm up to the man after he did two nice things for her.

"Ulquiorra-san, do you need any help?"

He turned to her direction with a cold look. She nervously turned her face slightly away and brought her eyes somewhere else again. _Okay, maybe not completely warming up just yet._

"No," she heard him he reply distantly.

Sometimes she wasn't sure if he actually heard to her. He looked like his head was usually out of this world, and she really wondered if there was some truth to the substance abuse charges. She just couldn't imagine him shooting up drugs into his system. That is, except for those constant glazed eyes when he's not angry. He was wearing casual short sleeved T-shirts and cargo shorts today, unlike the usual long sleeved shirts for the office, and she had discreetly peeked at his arms earlier when she collided with him, just to see if he used needles. But like the rest of his skin, it was porcelain smooth.

_Alright, maybe he just needs a bit of time to get used to the atmosphere._ She passed the rest of her thoughts of Ulquiorra, and for the next two minutes, Orihime eagerly wrote into her sheet.

"Alright, time's up. I'll start", she lifted hers for everyone to see.

._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.

**_I have naturally orange hair._**

**_I know how to play the guitar, but cannot play the violin.  
_**

**_I was weighed two hundred and thirty pounds three years ago._**

._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.

"So, you'll have to guess which one is the -"

Ulquiorra cut her off. "The third."

_Now he was participating? This is good..._

"Why not the first or the second one?" She asked curiously.

"Your lashes are of the same color. The roots of your hair have not given any indication of an alternate hair color for two weeks. You have callouses in particular parts of your finger, and only predominantly on one hand, so you should be playing the guitar, and not a violin. You are wearing shorts right now, and you do not have stretch marks on your legs."

She blushed at his quick observation of her body.

"Are you checking her out, Cuatro?" Nnoitra snickered. Revenge was sweet.

"I'm merely pointing out the obvious."

_Right, he was the one with the sharp, hyperactive hawk eyes._ She made a mental note to better make sure to cover up properly whenever he was around.

"R-right.. Yes, that's how it goes. It looks like you get the idea," she pushed aside the topic of her. The Arrancar head, Aizen, was beside her, and he was next. "How about we get go on to -"

"No, no, missy! Not like dat, I'll show ya how its done!" Gin enthusiastically jumped the line, skipping ahead of head boss' turn. He quickly held his sheet up and smiled at everyone. She balked when she read what he had written.

_._._._._._**_  
_**

**_I've blackmailed at least one board director from each of Arrancar's partner companies, all proceeds going to Arrancar Corporation. _**

**_I've blackmailed each one of you_****_ in this room _****_(_**_except Orihime, since she's still new and had no data on her yet_**_)_** at least once, and used the funds to pay for this nice house.  


_____**I've embezzled more than a quarter of Arrancar's last year profits.** _

_._._._._._**_  
_**

"You know, that's very good. I actually can't tell which one is the lie," a disinterested-sounding Starrk Coyote spoke, fingering his chin and the accompanying shy goatee on them.

"Shit!" Grimmjow loudly ratted, a frantic edge to his voice. "It's got to be the third one about the embezzlement! It's gotta be. Right? Aizen? Right?"

Aizen merely smiled at the Sexta.

"Well, I know he suddenly had a lot to spend this year... " a young, thin, blond haired Lilynette announced, "He did give me a lot of nice candies... and a fancy new phone... and a touchpad. Was that from the embezzlement, or the first blackmail?"

Gin turned to the inquisitive child, smiling conspiratorially. "Dat was in exchange fo' sum secret files I needed fro' ya, shorty, rem'ber?"

"Which one?"

"Da one I needed fo' gettin' da military research on-"

"So which is the lie, Gin?" Starrk suddenly prodded, suspiciously insistent for an immediate answer.

The silver haired man's eyes upturned into a brighter, sneakier smile.

"Nyah, ... da lie is da whole sheet! I lied 'bout lying! Everythin's da truth!" Gin shouted in victorious triumph.

"It doesn't work that way, Gin-san-" Orihime tried to correct the man.

Nnoitra cut her sentence off and sneered. "Seriously? Is that why I suddenly had to have a temporary paycut last year?"

"Gin, you screwball! So _that's_ why I didn't get my bonus!" Grimmjow shouted.

Orihime stared horridly at the growing dissension started by the mischievous CFO. She glanced at the other faces in the circle, Nnoitra and Grimmjow now coming at Gin, Lilynette starting to whine about getting less than what she bargained for, Barragan's single complete eyebrow diving into an angry half V shape. She could see his fists clenching quite tightly. _No...This was not part of the plan!_

Orihime entered herself into the fray. "Everyone, please don't-"

A deep, thick, feminine voice cut through the buiiding cacophany of angry protests, like a hot knife slicing through butter.

"That cannot be right..."

Everyone stopped to look at the direction of the sound, honing straight into a quiet Tia Harribel, the third team lead.

"... You have never blackmailed me," Tia stated solemnly.

Gin's face crumpled.

"Nayyaahh... Tia... do ya hav' ta open yer mouth now? I kinda counted on ya not speakin' up, ya bein all silent and mute all the time. I was jus enjoyin' da increase in m' notorious reputation an' revolt 'ere..."

"I was merely playing the game, Gin," she said as a matter-of-factly.

Orihime glanced and saw Barragan beside Gin. Before anyone could say another word, Orihime frantically stepped in. She didn't want any more uncomfortable questions coming up after reading Gin's sheet. She needed to change the subject in a hurry.

"Al-Alright everyone, lets have Barragan-san show what he wrote for us!"

She breathed a sigh of relief as she noticed the one eyed elder unclench his fists. He grumpily came up with his piece of paper to the audience.

"Children," he said condescendingly.

_____._._._._._**_  
_**

**_I shot the Führer in the nuts. I shot Mussolini in the head. I shot Josef Stalin in the leg._**

_._._._._._**_  
_**

"Crap, old timer. Who the fuck are those?" Grimmjow loudly asked.

Orihime, on the other hand, scored high on the National Exams. That included the topic of general history, and World War Two. She wondered if maybe she had made a mistake with her latest choice of participants.

In the periphery, it suddenly looked like Starrk and Gin had a lot more space between them and the old man. It started just right about the time both of them had finished reading the three short sentences in Barragan's hands. It seemed to be getting wider as the seconds passed by.

"That's easy," Aizen stated calmly. "Josef Stalin died of a cardiac arrest, which was actually found out to be false. He was injected with poison that caused the arrest. The lie is the third one."

Barragan grumbled. "It says shot, not killed."

"The _Führer_ then?" Aizen inquired.

"Who the hell is the _Führer_?"

The blue haired arsonist still kept on asking the question loudly to anyone who listen to him. Unfortunately, he was standing beside the Cuatro, who was receiving the highest possible level of volume. Ulquiorra tersely faced Grimmjow.

"Stop shouting at my ears, Sexta. He is our kinsman. Did you not read any books when you were younger?" the irritated voice said.

"I don't have any shit-ass kinsman here, you freak. You're a foreign nationality all by yourself, Ulquiorra."

Grimmjow turned his back on the green eyed man and looked about, hoping for someone else aside from the Cuatro to enlighten him. "Anyway, ain't Stalin the same one as mine? He sounds familiar."

"You imbecile," Ulquiorra retorted, "Mussolini was Italian, Stalin was Russian, Hitler was German."

"Hitler? You mean the _Führer_ is...? Holy shit old man, you shot Hitler in the nuts?!"

Barragan rolled his one good eye.

"Yes."

"Nyaaaa... Louisenbairn, I didn't know ya had a sense of humor!"

The old man, gotten tired of all the comments, decided to end his turn. "It is the second one. I was merely part of the assault team."

"How wonderful," Aizen commented while making the motions of lightly clapping his hands in praise, "And I thought the second one was the closest to the truth."

Orihime decided that this icebreaker was telling her a bit too much, much more than she would like to know about her colleagues.

Now that Barragan was done, the next one was Starrk.

"Its your turn, Starrk! Show em! I wanna see!" Lilynette grappled his arms excitedly.

"If I must..." He brought up his sheet.

_____._._._._._

**_Always sleep 10 hours a day._**

**_Can sleep 3 days straight. _**

**_Sleep for 4 hours during office hours every Tuesday and Thursday._**

_____._._._._._**_  
_**

"WHAT? That's lame Starrk! Don't you have anything better to say?" Lilynette whined._  
_

"No."

"Aren't you going to tell them about the assassi- mMpPppppppHH!" Starrk held his hands on top of his protege's mouth.

The small girl quickly held on to her mentor's hands and moved her whole body in a quick burst of a turn, twisting the arm holding her down in the process, escaping his grasp. She faced him petulantly.

"You're boring! I'm going to stop this before it gets any further. The first one's the lie. You sleep more than twelve hours, and more if you can help it."

Starrk willingly stepped back.

"MY TURN!" Lilynette jumped up and down, and read hers.

_____._._._._._

**_I've hacked into the HM Treasury and credited big amounts into my bank accounts._**

**_I've hacked into the US Treasury and credited huge amounts into my bank accounts._**

**_I've hacked into the Switzerland Treasury and credited monstrous amounts into my bank accounts._**

_____._._._._._**_  
_**

Starrk quickly stepped in and grabbed Lilynette's sheet. He promptly tore them into pieces._  
_

"Those are confidential closed records for juvenile convictions, Lilynette, you're not allowed to tell people about it," he reprimanded the young blonde calmly.

"But I did them! StaaaAAArrk!"

"Sorry, confidential information," he apologized to everyone. He pushed the small girl back into the circle. "Next."

Nnoitra grinned. "I guess its my turn." He put up his sheet with a confident jut. Orihime read it.

_I've slept with more than a hundred women. __I'm a virgin. _I can do an autofella-

Orihime quickly jumped towards Nnoitra and blocked his paper with both her hands. She glanced back nervously at Lilynette, blushing. "S-s-sorry, I think Gilga-san made a spelling mistake... he will have to skip this round."

She turned her face to look back up to the tall, lanky Nnoitra. He smiled toothily at her. That didn't look too good.

An inquiring Lilynette was pulling repeatedly on Starrk's already untucked shirt.

"Starrk, what's an auto-fe-la...lla...?"_  
_

"Next." Starrk firmly insisted.

She glanced back to the line. It was the Cuatro's turn.

She wondered what Ulquiorra would write. Out of everyone, she was expecting his the most. She saw him writing long lines in his sheet earlier when Starrk was showing his. She was finally glad he was joining, after all. She was worried for a while, since he merely stood motionless for the whole two minutes while everyone was wriitng down their statements. But he had something now.

Even if the day started out quite disorganized, things were looking as well as it could be. If she could just manage to do some crowd control, much like how things have been going just now, then it should already be considered a success, a win for her. There was really no going around the people in this team building, their backgrounds considered, but somehow, it became a bit more manageable after the ball started rolling. Okay, maybe there were a few setbacks... but most of the commotion died down before they could spread. At least no one had started killing each other. She didn't want to think of what would happen if she failed... Gin's response the last time sounded as if she was on probationary period, could lose the support of mystery person who decided to hire her, and still get fired from the job if she didn't do well. But with the way things are turning, its not a total mess, really. She just needed to be more resolute, and persistent, much like how she got everyone together this morning.

She's going to finally find out the other half of Gin's reply after this weekend. She was sure of it. She just had to hang on. She needed this job. For the house. For her brother. For a pending degree her _oniisan_ wanted for her. All she needed to do was be strong, and persistent and positive.

She saw Ulquiorra take a step out of their circle. She unconsciously leaned forward, eager to see what the abnormally nice Cuatro was going to reveal about himself.

Ulquiorra held up his sheet, and her world exploded into a million pieces.

_._._._._._**_  
_**

**_I believe this activity is trash._**

**_I believe that the organizer of this activity is a haslf brained witless charlatan who cannot even organize or manage a group properly._**

**_I believe that the organizer is unfit to even be in this company_**

_**I believe that the organizer will be fired right after this inane activity**  
_

___._._._._._**_  
_**

Everyone stared at the upturned piece of paper.

She saw Gin's smile widen at the words. Aizen put up his fingers to his lips knowingly, and looked like he was smiling too. Nnoitra just kept laughing hysterically in the background. Grimmjow's mouth was open in shock, Lilynette looked angry, but Tia, Starrk and Barragan's eyes quietly read the words, and slowly travelled their silent gazes to her. Looking at her. Somewhere in the background, she could still hear Nnoitra laughing.

Laughing at her.

They knew.

They _all_ knew.

They knew what an uncontrollable mess the day had been since it started. How she had poorly managed everything and tried to make the pieces fit together the best that she could. How she was trying to be resolute, positive and persistent,... but the reality is, she still fell short.

How could they not know? They were there with her. _They all knew the truth._

Orihime crumpled at the blatant announcement of reality the man in front of her had made._  
_

Ulquiorra broke the silence.

"I am not putting up with this infantile game anymore. Ridiculous. I have seen enough." He coldly stepped towards her, still grasping the paper he held in this hands. She couldn't move away as the man approached. She couldn't avert her eyes. His green, hard orbs were looking coldly straight at hers.

She stared at them with a horrible, fascinated anticipation.

Ulquiorra stopped right in front of her, his eyes boring down on her shrivelled soul. Then he slapped the icy truth into the palms of her hands.

"_This_," he pressed down the piece of paper roughly in her hands, "is all trash. I will not join in this inane children's game you have concocted. It's clear that you have no brains whatsoever, even to manage a simple activity like this."

Her eyes started to fill with tears as she heard the written words on her hands become another cold reality to her ears, coming from the man who had just denounced her to everybody in the room. But he didn't stop there. He elaborated further, with the cold precision of a surgical scalpel.

"No one wanted to participate if not for your flaunting yourself to everyone like a harlot, chasing after everybody just to get them into this idiotic activity."

Her vision started to blur. She felt a tear roll down her cheeks. Her eyes couldn't seem to hold on to the flood of wetness that to kept on coming from nowhere.

Another one rolled down.

And another.

"Shit, come on now Ulquiorra. That was a bit over, don't you think? It's just a game, loosen up."

"I will not do what some half wit has elaborated me to do, Sexta." She cringed.

With harsh reality delivered straight into her own hands, she saw him turn, his blurry back towards her. He walked out, and then was gone.

Silence, except for hysterical laugh in the background.

Then movement. Far far away. She could barely hear them...

"... Forget him, Princess, he's the half wit asshole..."

"Orihime nee-chan, please don't cry..."

_... Nee-chan... _

_... O-neechan... _

"... O-niisan..." she whispered.

That was when the flood she was tightly holding back came out of everywhere.

She closed her eyes, covering them with her hands. Trying to blind herself and reject the reality of her situation. Ashamed of herself.

She racked into uncontrollable sobs.

She couldn't look at anyone straight in the eye. It was good that her vision was blurry... she didn't want to see them. All she kept seeing was how people were merely accommodating her. Laughing at her. Taking a pity on her.

He was right. There was no way she can control the people in this company. They were leagues beyond what she could handle.

All he did was point out the truth to her. And to everyone else. He didn't do anything wrong.

So why did it hurt so much? Wasn't the truth always grand and fair?

And she thought he saved her last weekend. What's the point in saving someone if you were just going to destroy them to pieces exactly a week later?

* * *

_In the late afternoon..._

Orihime stared.

That was all she did. She stared, and glared.

Glared at the man in front of her, surrounded by a large pile of poker chips. Ulquiorra was winning. She glared some more.

They were in Gin's personal gameroom, and extra decks of cards scattered over the place. A round table. Five men. Aizen dealing, Gin, Ulquiorra, Nnoitra and Barragan on the table. The pile was high up for the Ulquiorra, followed by a close second by Aizen's pile, and seconded by almost an equal pile for the Gin. Noitra had only a few chips left, and Baraggan was still in the running, but likely not for long. Grimmjow had been kicked off early in the game and was watching beside her, with both Tia, Lilynette and Starrk.

In the middle of the table sat the pot, with a very big pile of chips. It was larger than normal. But that wasn't the point. Not for Inoue Orihime.

She was not concentrating on the game. Orihime glared like there was no tomorrow. Glared at the man across the large table. He ignored her as usual. He was her only objective now. And she wished he would lose.

"Stop staring at him, Princess, if you stare at him some more, you really might get to the point where you're angry enough to have lasers zipping out of your eyes," Grimmjow whispered.

She kept quiet as she tried to stop herself from getting worked off. She couldn't help it. It was like hating someone for telling the horrible, secret truth about you, pulling your face smack down to the ground. In the broken aftermath, obsession took over, eyes becoming constantly fixed on the perpetrators, not letting a single movement out of your sight. Consumed by the anger and the shame they had brought. Hoping that you will find a fault, or a mistake in them, and in that mistake, you will have the satisfaction of witnessing their great fall from their own throne. Hoping that, with that one mistake, the truth they revealed about you would suddenly disappear into thin air. You wanted them discredited. You wanted them shot down, and you wanted them to fall on their knees, begging.

They were desperate thoughts from desperate beings with nothing to lose. And she was one. She knew it wouldn't happen, she knew it wasn't realistic, she knew she was being childish, but she still continued to look at the man, willing every fibre of her being, willing that he would somehow, lose. She was hoping that he was bluffing again, and had really terrible cards in his hands.

The Cuatro was unexpectedly good with poker. It probably had something to do with his constantly frozen, emotionless face, not giving away a shred of information about the cards in his hands. For once, she didn't see the strangeness that was him. All she could see was a cold, emotionless, insensitive man that spoke the absolute truth, regardless whether the truth ruined a person or not.

"Princess, you can still change your mind you know.. you remember what I asked you the first day?"

Almost, but not quite. But she was not going to get herself in jail just for _his_ benefit, even if it was for the end of _his_ existence.

She kept silent and continued to watch her adversary.

* * *

"Nyaaa... Such a tense atmosphere.. "

Gin stretched his hands, trying to take some ease from sitting on the table for quite some time. Four hours since they started, in fact.

"'ere, how 'bout ya kill da tension as fast as possible Aizen? Wanna give it a go?"

Aizen smiled, and pushed his whole pile to the center of the table. "Indeed."

"Wat say ya, Ulquiorra?" Gin asked lazily.

"Yes."

"Sorry, yes what? Ya hafta push da chips in yourself, ya know. We ain't gonna do it fo ya."

Ulquiorra pushed everything in.

"Well, dat's funny... maybe I should fold..."

"Gin, what the hell!"

"Just jokin, Grimmy," looking at the blue haired man's direction. "You're emitting an awfully strong, violent aura 'round der, y'know. Ya wanna tone it down a bit?"

Grimmjow glanced nervously at the uncharacteristically quiet woman beside him. _Oh, the hell._

"Screw you, Gin, just play!"

"If ya say so..."

Gin pushed all his chips to the center of this table. He idly stood up, took out his pen and two slips of paper, and wrote on them. He threw one to Aizen's pile, and the other to his own.

"Der ya go. We're going all in, and callling ya, Ulquiorra," he grinned at the Cuatro lazily.

Everyone held their breath.

Orihime was a strange creature. She prayed fervently from the depths of her being that Ulquiorra would lose. She prayed that he was bluffing. She was _sure_ he was bluffing. If the sheer amount of her will counted in altering the course of the universe, then it would result in Lady Fate resigning from her day job and running away screaming, and Orihime would have successfully changed whatever cards in Ulquiorra's hands, into twos, threes and fours. She was certain he held on to a bluff, and she wanted to see the truth of her will revealed in those cards in his hands, and see him fall. He can't be perfect all the time. He can't be right all the time. He just ... **_can't_._  
_**

Gin raised his hand. "Hold on. How 'bout we do this in the order of our all-in? Aizen, how 'bout ya show yer cards first, then the Cuatro here, and have me the last? Got any objections?"

Both of them shrugged at his comment. Gin was strange, and he had idiosyncrasies that always didn't make sense. If anyone turned his request down, he would probably find another way to get what he wanted. It was better to let the CFO be.

The Arrancar boss announced the showdown. "Its time for a show of hands, gentlemen."

Aizen placed his cards on the table. It was a full house of Aces and a pair of Queens._  
_

"Ohhh-hoho! Way the go, Boss! That's one hell of a hand!"

Orihime saw the cards, felt the same smug, satisfying sentiment... Ulquiorra _was_ going to lose.

Ulquiorra, faceless, put down his hand. It was a straight flush of spades, from nine to king.

"The hell-? is that even possible? I thought the asshole was bluffing again!" Grimmjow cursed.

There was no way anyone could win against that. It was a card away from the highest possible combination. What are the odds of that happening? She felt burning inside her. Both anger, and the odd sensation of a worse feeling, resignment. It didn't feel good. Yet she continued to keep her eyes at the emotionless man. He had one of the most impossible combinations in the game, and he didn't even looked _smug_ about it. The man didn't have any dramatic flair or elation. He just shelled out the truth like it didn't mean _anything_.

Time stopped as she saw his eyes move to look at her direction. She reflexively shrunk back. _Caught_. Then she remembered there was not much to lose any more, her reputation was in tatters. There was nothing else, and it was because of _this_ man. She recovered herself in an instant, this time making sure to let him see her angry glare at him. She wasn't afraid. There was nothing else to be afraid of anymore. She was-

Her thoughts were broken as Gin spoke.

"Aiiya. Scary, scary. That's a very high card," he crooked this face at Ulquiorra's cards, his own cards still lying face down on the table.

He glanced at the dark haired man.

"Ulquiorra, humor me. Wat are da odds of a straight flush in a traditional five card poker hand, ace high only?"

The man paused for a second.

"Thirty-two in two-million-five-hundred-ninety-eight-thousand-nine-hundred-sixty." She gawked. _Did he do that all in his head?_ The man didn't even blink. He never did. He just stated the facts.

"An' da odds of beatin' dat?"

"Four in two-million-five-hundred-ninety-eight-thousand-nine-hundred-sixty," he emotionlessly replied.

"Lets skip da details, al'right? Ah can't rem'ber all those numbers. Let' say ya, four in two-point-five-mil. Dat wud be a good rounded estimate, ya?" He fingered his lips in thought, "So... rounded, dat wud mean 'bout one in six-hundred-twenty-five-thousand?"

"Yes."

Gin kept his face. Which was what it always in - mischievously smiling.

"How wud ya say Missy's chances are fo' stayin in da company?"

Everyone stared. She balked. What does this have to do with her?

"Fuck, Gin, just show your damn cards!" Grimmjow shouted.

"Shut yer mouth, Grimmy. This ain't yer game," he dismissively flicked the Sexta's comment, and looked back at Ulquiorra, smiling.

"So, Ulquiorra?"

Ulquiorra glanced at her for a second. Protective armor shattered by Gin's sudden, strange comment, she shrunk back, and looked away from his gaze.

"_None_." She cringed as she heard the reply.

"Nyaaa... dat's wat I like 'bout ya. Everythin' so simple, so bold," Gin laughed as he carelessly waved his hand about. He turned his head in a serpentine way away from Ulquiorra, to where the Cuatro was looking at earlier. She saw him open his slit eyes... to look directly at her.

He knew she was looking the whole night.

"Missy, ya been watchin us da whole nite like ya wanna play. How 'bout I give ya a chance..."

She just balked at Gin's rambling thoughts._ What was he up to?_

"Oh but wait, ya don't have any chips! How about dat?" Gin feigned wonder.

She somehow found her voice in spite of the CFO's drama. "Gin-san, what are you-?"

But he ignored her comment and turned away, back to the green eyed man sitting beside him.

"So, Ulquiorra, how 'bout we give missy her chance? How 'bout ... we bet on lil' missy's job right now?"

All the gears in her head suddenly came to life, and they started to work and churn furiously in desperation at Gin's comment. Trying to erase what she had just heard right now. _No!_

"No."

_No?_

"Oh? an' why not?"

"That would increase her chances from none to the probability of a royal flush. It wouldn't be accurate."

She stopped._ He really didn't think she was up to it? Zero, really?_

She could feel incredulity and anger start to rise in her. Throwing truths and facts as if they didn't mean anything. She shouldn't have expected anything else from the man in front of her.

"Oh, yes a royal flush! Now ah rem'ber wat it was called... But it's a small number! Ya can't even have a bit of hesitation wit' her?"

He was silent.

Gin waved off his silence disinterestedly, as if responses to his questions didn't matter in any way. Instead, the silver haired man nodded his head towards her general direction. "I ain't da one workin' my back an' bones fo' her ta keep her job." He grinned, and threw out his next words.

"Lil' missy, ... how 'bout ya come 'ere an' take a look if the cards tell ya yer future."

She stared at the man sitting beside Ulquiorra. He has to have something up his sleeves, right? He couldn't be a prankster with that grin of his right now. He winked at her. The CFO knew what she was thinking. He was very aware how angry she was with Ulquiorra. The man was a prankster, but he was also very perceptive. Gin raised his fingers and motioned her to come to him.

_What is Gin doing? Is he finally playing with me now? No!__  
_

Strangely, her feet independently moved for her, in sharp contrast with the thoughts in her head. She found herself walking to him as he beckoned, in a strange, hypnotic trance. She could distantly feel Ulquiorra's eyes following as she came near them, and finally stopped across Gin.

"How much are ya gonna bet fo' a winning hand, missy?" He asked idly, tapping on Ulquiorra's upturned straight flush resting on the table.

She looked silently at him. _I don't want to... please..._

"So, would ya bet ... yer job on it? Ulquiorra 'ere seems ta think yer incapable of 'andling yer job an' takin' a little risk. How much would ya bet against him? Or would ya bet against me?"

His reminder of Ulquiorra's opinion caused her to retract her earlier thoughts in slight anger. She wanted a chance to pull Ulquiorra down, didn't she? Isn't he giving her the opportunity to do so? But she didn't understand Gin's question._ Was he asking her to pick between the both of them?  
_

Gin elaborated further, tapping on the Cuatro's cards in a tick-tock rhythmn as if to reiterate what he was saying, "Ya pick the winning hand-" _  
_

___Gin asking her to choose the winning hand? with the higher probability? Is he trying to tell me Ulquiorra's right? _

"-an' yer goin' ta keep yer job, missy. That's the wager," He completed his sentence, abruptly stopping his fingers over the cards, this time smiling wickedly.

So it is true. She was going to lose her job. Gin pretty much flat out stated it in black and white. In front of Aizen. In front of everyone. Now that she was up the table, she was in center stage. A chance. He was giving her a chance. It was as good as done if she was wrong, but if she was right, she gets to keep her job. What's there to lose? If she didn't play his game, she was done for already, anyway.

If she chose Gin, he was, for the lack of a better word, 'protecting' her now, but she will lose her job afterwards because there's a high probability of him losing against Ulquiorra. If she chose Ulquiorra, who has repeatedly been attacking her and pulling her down, she will get to keep her job, because there's a high probability of him winning, but she had to swallow her pride.

It was a cruel choice to ask someone to make. A choice of two lesser evils.

Gin couldn't be cruel, could he? But he was. He was the one who blew a vuvuzela against Wonderweiss' ears. The one who repainted Syazel's hair yellow, and filled his room with helium through the air vents. He antagonized Grimmjow, and hit him smack hard in the head.

And he merely smiled and watched this morning, even as Ulquiorra destroyed her.

She wanted her job. She needed it. Her life depended on it. It was all she had left of her brother. And now something as precious as her memories of her brother was reduced to a choice that depended on a game of poker, on who she thought had the winning hand. She was watching the whole game, she should know. She was the one who was supposed to know how to read people. Know them. She was studying for it.

She could tell ... what ... Gin... had ... in... his... hands...

She stopped. Did she know?

_No, she didn't. _All the time the game was going on, she didn't even spare the others a glance. She was only watching Ulquiorra because she was so angry at him. Poker was a game of cards, but it was also a game of bluff. It depended on the personalities involved. Sometimes the cards didn't matter, it was the better personality that took home the pot. And Gin was one of the most difficult personalities to predict. He was not like Ulquiorra, who was faceless and emotionless, regardless of the cards he held in his hand, but that was what made Gin dangerous. He was a hard man to read, and when he wanted to, he will mislead _intentionally_.

What had she done? She was not looking at Gin when his cards were dealt. Nor any other thing he may have done afterwards. She lost the chance of winning even before the game started. She was so fixated in her anger towards the Cuatro, she had stopped living and ceased noticing everything else around her. She became a mess, feeding herself with her shame, anger and the truths and facts that Ulquiorra had wantonly given out.

She was suddenly very angry. But this time it was different. Inoue Orihime was angry at herself_._

She shouldn't have been fixated with just one person. She shouldn't have forgotten the balance that both she and her brother treasured. She was supposed to make sure to keep the balance of the heart and the mind, for both herself and with other people. What was she doing letting her anger take over her heart, even as her mind told her not to?

She could cower and stay silent, and let the green eyed man tell everyone how she was useless. Or she could speak up and tell him he was wrong. She was supposed to be strong willed. Determined. Even in his final moments, her brother used his last breaths just to tell her what kind of person she really was.

And the rest of the day was fine. She just let the emotionless man in front of her hit the wrong buttons, and suddenly, he ruined the whole day for her. Grimmjow was reassuring her. So was Lilynette, and even Starrk. The others went along with the team building, even after the Cuatro had said his harsh words, and left them. Everyone was _fine_.

What she did wasn't stupid. It wasn't trash. She wasn't trash. It was her job to know these people, and she did them.

She never neglected what she was supposed to do. She never neglected her responsibilities. _She never neglected her duties._

No, it depended on how smart she was in figuring out the people in this company. She was supposed to know how these people should operate. Why she painstakingly prepared the team building for so long, trying to get past Syazel, bargain with Gin, get all their background files, meet with everyone. She wasn't being a harlot. She was doing what needed to be done, because she wanted to. She was so fixated on what Ulquiorra had done, to the point that she ignored everything else... why had he taken a front seat in all of her plans? her thoughts? She shouldn't have thought too much for only one person's words.

And he was just sitting there... his constant glazed look always staring into oblivion. He didn't even look like he cared. He threw facts like it was nothing, but they weren't the absolute truth. He never cared, and even knowing that, she let his words hurt her.

If he didn't care about anything, what made her believe that he cared enough about the truth to understand what it exactly means?

In the moment of her last question, without realizing it, she had confronted everything that brought her to her earlier desolate state - her anger, her shame, her apprehensions and her fears. She didn't know it, but what was left in her, was something special. Something that her late brother has always seen in her, and believed in her.

Orihime looked at Gin, then she looked at Ulquiorra.

She may not be paying attention earlier, but she _had_ paid attention when she met everyone, one by one, during the past week. This wasn't a bet that relied on pure luck. It wasn't a bet that relied on probabilities. It was a bet to know how much she knew Arrancar, and how much she knew the people involved. How much she knew Ulquiorra, and how much she knew Gin. In fact, _specifically_ Gin.

Because Gin knew his own cards. He also knew Ulquiorra's cards, now that they were upturned on the table. He was toying with her. Or ... was he really giving her another chance?

She looked at the still mischievously smiling Gin, waiting for her response. He played his pranks, he blackmailed, he embezzled. He wanted her in his team, for as many times so far as she could remember. Had he actually done anything to permanently terminate someone? Terminating someone meant he would have less people to play his games on. Maybe he was wicked, and sadistic, but he was also self serving. He wanted to have fun. Just like what he was doing now... having fun seeing her agonize over a choice to choose a man who had pulled her down. But would he go as far as to get her fired?

Facts stated that Gin having a royal flush was highly unlikely, and Ulquiorra had the the upper hand. He had the figures backing him. The probability, the statistics. It was a science, based on facts. Conservatively and logically, she should choose Ulquiorra. But was it about the probability and facts, or the people and the personality?

_"... would ya bet against him? Or would ya bet against me?"_

The truth is that, this wasn't a game of probability anymore, that was thrown out of the window early on, when Gin had looked at Ulquiorra's cards and dragged her into his sadistic, cruel, psychological game. It was a game of knowing people, despite what they let themselves show on the outside. Cards were always finite probabilities. People were the worst gamble, they were infinite. But it was her work. Her job. She _can_ do her job. This gamble was a chance for her to show she knew the people, and eventually, managing them. To show that she knew Arrancar, at least enough to show she can pull it off. That was what mattered, in the end.

And with that job, was the chance that she could keep her treasured memories of her life, intact.

_Yes. It was simple. And it was time to make a choice_,_ and to take back what was hers._

The room was quiet as they waited for her answer.

She took a deep breath, and told them her choice.

"I'd bet my job on that."

_And my life, and everything I believe in._

Her fingers pointed to the cards facedown on the table.

"Is that your choice, Orihime?" Aizen asked. "You will bet your tenure on that, whatever the outcome?"

"Yes."

"Then I think you should do the honors, Orihime. I will take your word for it," Aizen smiled.

She closed her hands on the first one.

_King_.

And then the other. _Jack_.

_Ten_.

_Ace_.

All of the same suit.

_One in six hundred twenty five __thousand_. That's what the odds are. 

_The same odds to know if she read the CFO right. If she deserved her job. If she was worth being in Arrancar. If she was better than what anybody said, even a man who seemed to be always stating the 'truth' and 'facts' correctly._

_And if she deserved the destiny that her brother wanted for her.  
_

Her heart thundered. She closed her eyes and quickly flipped the last card.

For a moment, there was a short silence.

"FUuUUUUCK!"

She blinked.

"SCREW YOU CUATRRRRO!" Grimmjow hollered.

She stared at the card.

And suddenly, her eyes teared.

_Onii-san..._

In her hands, was the serenely dignified face of the Queen of Hearts.

* * *

...

* * *

"Its party time!" Gin announced, and dragged a large cooler to the table, and a large box on top of it. In it, bottles of wine, vodka, rum from his personal stash.

Sounds of corks and caps popping filled the large living room. A small hand was seen quickly reaching into the cooler with several beer cans.

"Lilynette-chan-!" Orhime warned. She saw the girl flitting away quickly to the other end of the room with her prize in her hands. Orihime tried to go to her direction, but was slowed down by the rest of her colleagues who were also jumping into the cooler, rummaging through the selection. She saw the girl open the can and was raising the beer to her mouth.

Before she could take a drink, Starrk appeared by her side and swiped the can from the small blond girl, and quickly draining half.

"Lilynette, time for bed."

"What the hell Starrk! Its barely nine! I just want to give it a try!"

"You're only twelve."

"Give that back!" She tried to reach for the can in his hands. Starrk boredly held it up and out of her reach as he walked towards the fridge, holding her along.

"You can't do this! You're not even my legal guardian!" she snapped at him. He looked down and patted her on the head as he opened the fridge and reached inside.

"Here." He handed a pint to her.

"Just this?" she retorted, but at the same time, she was quickly uncapping the container and snatched the spoon conveniently offered to her by Starrk.

Starrk glanced at Orihime. "She likes ice cream. Sugar high," he explained, "particularly this brand. Its a little expensive though. She only gets it on special occasions."

"It's not like I can't buy it myself," the small girl retorted back.

"Only if you have access to our bank accounts, Lilynette."

"I could hack my way into their system, you know..."

"Not if you want to get back into _the_ system again."

She snorted and continued to gobble up spoonfuls of the frozen dairy.

Starrk glanced at Orihime. "Would you like to have some too, Orihime-chan?" He opened the freezer portion for her. There were at least twenty pints inside. She peeked inside curiously, looking at the flavors. She couldn't resist ice creams. It was her weakness. "Is it alright, Starrk-san?" she asked timidly.

"Don't get the vanilla pods, Orihime nee-chan. They're mine..." Lilynette spoke between spoonfuls.

"Lilynette, no need to be greedy, a third of them are all vanilla pods," Starrk chided the small girl. He stepped slightly aside to let Orihime access to the freezer. She picked out a belgian chocolate flavored one instead.

Starrk suddenly smiled.

"Hello Barragan. Do you want one too?"

The one eyed stocky old man snorted grumpily as he passed them. "I'm going to loose all my teeth faster if I eat like that little wildcat responsibility of yours." His one good eye went to Lilynette as she was repeatedly tapping the already empty pint against Starrk's waist, requesting for another one. He was ignoring her.

"Its really good Barragan-san," Orihime added, as she scooped for a second round on the counter. "I can't finish the whole pint, maybe we can share-"

Lilynette quickly snatched her pint and was plunging in the spoon already.

"-something else aside from this one," she ended her sentence, giggling.

The tall, dark skinned voluptuous Tia Harribel came around, putting aside a beer can on the counter. This distracted Lilynette as eyed it eagerly. "It is empty," she informed the young girl, looking crestfallen to have another chance of trying to taste beer snatched away from her.

"I will have ice cream." Harribel announced.

"Nooooo! Tia nee-chan, just one ok? Please? Please?" she pleaded.

"I'm sorry, Harribel, my charge here is not in a habit of being rude," Starrk apologized.

"I will only have a little, Lilynette," Harribel explained to the girl strictly, "Not the whole pint by myself. Do not worry. Orihime, would you like to share yours?"

Orihime stopped. She was discreetly getting another cup from the freezer when Harribel pulled attention towards her.

Lilynette's face crumpled seeing so many of her ice cream out of the freezer and in other people's hands. The poor girl. Orihime giggled. "How about we share a pint between the three of us girls? Would that be fine, Lilynette-chan? That should be an equal divide and fair, right?"

"Oh, alright..." She raised the empty belgian chocolate container towards Orihime.

Orihime hummed as she scooped the ice cream evenly between the three of them, already in a more pleasant mood after a whirlwind of a day. The ice cream helped. After the life altering wager she had an hour ago, she managed to calm herself down. They had dinner afterwards, and the whole table actually felt respectable and problem free. I did help to have good food to distract everyone from getting on each other's throats. Several times during the meal, she tried to peek at the Ulquiorra, seeing if he was offended by the poker game, but he looked indifferent, and he quietly ate without uttering anything. Typical. Grimmjow kept taunting the green eyed with his loss, but they just bounced off him.

She glanced at the first three team leads surrounding the fridge as she scooped up the ice cream to her mouth. She liked them - Starrk, Barragan and Harribel. They were as regular as you can get. Except for Starrk, which was the only one with a criminal record between the three, the other two were problem free in terms of civil law. All of them were actually military trained. It explained a great deal about how strictly they managed their teams, almost with a army like precision. With the exception of Starrk, of course, since he only had Lilynette. But in Orihime's opinion, she was just a child who made an honest mistake, and didn't know what was right from wrong. Their files didn't include details, only a list of convictions, but she had a theory why both of them were always together.

They were a far cry from the others, namely Ulquiorra, Grimmjow and Nnoitra. The latter three were a bit of a wild card, the last two even more so. She glanced as she took in Grimmjow and Nnoitra on the poker table again, this time playing with the CFO. Then her eyes went into a more serious note.

_Gin_. He was not a man she would like to cross paths again. She wasn't sure what exactly he was doing, but he played a dangerous game with her earlier. She made a mental note to make sure to be careful around him. The game he played with her was far more serious than the ones he did with the others. There was another side of him she didn't know about, she was certain, recalling the first time she shook hands with him. If it was him who was the mystery person who decided to hire her... well, she wasn't sure what she would do. She could probably handle him, seeing how well she did with his 'game'... but it was always good to be wary. Fortunately, it was only her who was dragged into his game. Ulquiorra seemed unaffected by the whole episode... but then, nothing seemed to affect the man, except with occasional outbursts. Most of which she had been the receiving end of.

_Speaking of which, where is Ulquiorra?_

She searched for the Cuatro but couldn't find him in the room. Most of the people were till enjoying the night after a day of activities, having unlimited beer funded by Gin. She was still suspicious about his intentions, remembering Grimmjow's picture from the employee file the silver haired man had willingly handed to her, but decided to let it go when she saw everyone seemed to be enjoying.

Orihime needed to get some fresh air. The whole place smelled of alcohol. She slid open the sliding doors that lead out to the Japanese garden at the back.

She was surprised to find the man she was searching for earlier sitting at the edge of the porch, his hands on his forehead, alone. The man looked strangely melancholic and vunerable.

She cleared her throat to warn the man of her presence. He was motionless.

Well, they will have to share the porch for a while. She needed the fresh air... and she was not going to go the other way just because Ulquiorra was there. She settled herself down on the middle of the porch, where the gravel walkway for the garden started, and quietly ate her ice cream. Then it started to become quiet as the night insects suddenly died down their noises, making her feel a bit awkward.

Anyway, she had to talk to him, sooner or later. So she made her first attempt.

"Ulquiorra-san..."

"Ulquiorra," he corrected faintly. The voice sounded tired. He moved his hands away from his forehead and looked out at the pond, the surface of the water occasionally disturbed by the large carps that would swim idly in the surface.

She stopped, suddenly curious. She didn't think she had ever heard him sound tired before. It was dark, and she wished there was a little more light. Ulquiorra was sitting at the edge of the porch, his back slightly turned away from her, making a attempt to view his face impossible.

Then she remembered what he had done earlier in the day. His blurry back. It was enough to raise her temper slightly and dismiss her earlier thoughts. Sometimes there was no way for her to mellow down with the man. She sighed. Well, she wanted to make some amends, but she also wanted to say her thoughts on the day. If he wants facts, he will have them. It will have to do. Even if she cannot see his face, she could still talk to him, at least.

"You know, I prepared this team building so that it does what it does – build teams. You've just singlehandedly undermined everything that I've been trying to do."

A pause. Then he answered back in his normal, emotionless tone.

"I was not obligated to act out of character so that you keep your job."

She sighed. He was back to his old self again. Even talking to him was a challenge.

"Everyone is inside drinking beer and enjoying the night. Why don't you join them? Nothing wrong with beer, right?" she gently prodded.

"I do not drink alcohol. Those idiots can drown themselves with it, and it wouldn't matter to me." Agitated.

She looked into his direction, wanting to at least see the face of the man she was talking to. But they was still under the cover of the shadows. She tried again, this time wanting to get a bit more of her point across. "You could at least try to enjoy everyone's company..."

"I don't put up with appearances, either they're stupid, or they're not," the cold voice replied.

"You're saying the boss is now stupid? I hardly think that's satisfactory."

"He didn't hire me to keep up with appearances. He hired me because I get the job done. There's nothing in there, or in your program, that's going to change anything. I don't need to interact with the likes of that idiot Grimmjow, or Nnoitra. I'll still manage to get the job done, either way, with or without them."

She sighed. He was stating points again as if they were cold, hard facts. It was as detached as one could get. And having to talk to someone without seeing their face, she decided, was actually difficult. Especially with someone like the one she was 'conversing' with at the moment. He now had his face down, as if looking on the ground.

"One day you're going to get an assignment that will require to work with one of them… wouldn't it be advantageous for you to get along?"

"When the time comes, I'll put up with it. I do not need to invest my time now for the possibility of working with them in the future. Which likely will never happen, by the way. It's a waste of my time."

"So, it's take it as it comes along, is it?"

She notice him lift his head again, as he stared on, but not responding to her questions.

"So this is not a waste of time? Just sitting here and doing nothing?" she asked.

"Look woman, I do not tell you to drink tea now and add two cubes of sugar in it. I don't force it down your throat, although I would say that I wouldn't mind doing so, just to have you end your incessant questions. I would appreciate if you do _not_ do it to me. What I do in my own time is mine." Hard, cold.

This was impossible. Frustrated at the faceless conversation, she stood up and walked to his end of the porch, and stood behind him, leaving a few feet away. She had learned enough about the man to know that he was not going to appreciate being too close, and she wasn't about to chance on getting his tempers flaring again. She hoped he would at least turn around when she asked her next question.

"Could you at least give it a try tomorrow? I know I owe you much more than what I'm doing now, but I'm asking a bit more from you. If not for being colleagues, then for someone grateful to you for saving her life, and someone who actually cares."

In that moment, he did turn around, but instead of coming to the light, he quickly stood up and moved back, still keeping himself under the cover of the night. She felt him look at her, like a faint linger of challenge.

"Did you just drag that little declaration from a fairytale when you were a child? Gratefulness and caring are for the misguided. When I think it's worth taking my time, I will. Nothing more, nothing less," he replied coldly.

She kept quiet, looking at the silhouette of the man she could barely see. But that didn't hide the sharp edge and suddenly contemptuous tone of his reply.

"You're a cold one, aren't you…" she softly said.

"Call me what you want. It matters not," the man added monotonously. Suddenly she saw his head look up behind her.

"Princess!"

She turned around to find very drunken Grimmjow in the patio doors, now down to his boxers, one hand on a bottle, the other holding on five cards.

"… You're about to witness my full glory in the next round, and I need an honest assessment of my assets while its still up for grabs!"

Orihime blushed at the insinuation.

"How do you like them so far?" waving the cards in front of her, and stepping up to her while she was inches from his naked chest.

Grimmjow was holding a triple flush of threes and a pair of twos. He also reeked of alcohol, promising definite intoxication and the full after morning effects the next day.

"Err… "

"Shut up Grimmjow! Get your ass over here!" Nnoitra hollered.

"Nyah… you're not just going to lose your shorts in the next round. Your next month's salary is on the line!" The silver haired CFO taunted from inside the house.

"Eat me, Gin." He rattled, turning around towards Gin with a raised fist, and accidentally bumping his elbows on Orihime's shoulders as she fell a sudden step behind.

She immediately felt hands on her back, an action that stopped her from slipping off the edge of the porch.

"Tch."

"Oh, I didn't notice… Your holiness, are you being emostastic again? Whatever, you can do what you want, just don't hog the Princess all by yourself. The fun's just starting!"

She felt a gentle push forward that got her righted, then felt the pale man walk past her quickly to face Grimmjow, giving her a partial view of his angled face. She was worried there was something wrong with him, having been acting strangely tonight, but he seemed to look fine under the porch lights. She saw Ulquiorra stare up and down Grimmjow, as if giving him a rough assessment.

"You stink, Sexta, and you're barely standing." There was a sudden hard edge to his voice. She glanced at Ulquiorra. He looked angry.

"Hey that's probably you, shorty. Look, I'm towering over you!"

"Disgusting. Get your chest off me," roughly pushing Grimmjow, sending him flying back several feet and sprawling towards the floor.

"What the-? Fuck you, Cuatro."

She stared as an angry Grimmjow flicked him a finger. The hopelessly drunk man made several failed attempts to stand up before getting back on his feet, then slowly started to stumble back to the house, with the cards on his hands. He wouldn't pass a sobriety test on the first step... and would probably have a hangover tomorrow. If they did sleep through the night, that is. An idea suddenly came to mind. She stiffled a giggle.

Grimmjow's going to have to need her help to even get back in. She started to step towards her blue haired colleague, but glanced back, deciding to address the Cuatro first. She saw Ulquiorra began to lower himself again on the porch, his back towards her.

"Ulquiorra-" She slowly called out to him. Before she could complete her full address, she was surprised to see him slightly crook his head towards the direction of her voice. She quickly held her tongue, stopping herself from voicing out the accompanying honorific she normally used with him. He never responded in any other way other than irritation whenever she addressed him, but calling him by just his first name produced a surprising, different reaction that she didn't expect.

Just for this once, she conceded to call him by his name. Just for tonight. Anyway, it didn't sound so bad and disrespectful in her mouth.

She knew he was listening. So she continued what she was about to say.

"... I'm not out of a job, yet," she confided. She glanced at his back, still immobile.

"Don't worry. Tell you a secret," she smiled, "tomorrow's program is specifically for you. Just promise me you'll show up. I'll give you a good time."

* * *

**AN:** There is one major 'mistake' with this chapter, an intentional one. And if you figure it out, you're definitely reading between the lines, and the chapter will make a better impact for you when it comes to our favorite pairing's current ... err.. acquaintance? :) If you can't find it, don't worry, it's alright... I made sure the slight overlooking of that little 'mistake' won't differ the overall meaning of the chapter for everyone.

Back to our regular programming: PHew. Long chapter. I was thinking of splitting THIS up, but figured, what the heck. Anyways, what a boring, mean and uncaring Ulquiorra. What's the deal with being nice and then pulling Orihime down? And he doesn't like coffee like normal people do, he doesn't drink alcohol either. And he doesn't party. What a loser. *snicker* Wonder what Orihime has in store for Ulquiorra? *grin*

This is the first time I'm writing a chapter with almost all of the Arrancar crew together. I didn't want them as "cameos", but was actually trying to build their characters instead - it was challenging for me to make it dynamic and rowdy, but still meaningful. Was it a challenging read for you? I hope not. I think I've already mentioned several times WHY I want you to leave me a review or a PM of your thoughts... so... please do! I'm looking forward. Constructive criticism highly welcome!


	8. 07 The Team Building II

**AN:** Are you all angry at me for dragging Ulquiorra down in the last chapter? To be honest, he was really mean and callous to begin with... He asked Yammy to kill her in the manga. At least in this one I just made him threaten her job :)

Here's the second part of Orihime's team building, my original favorite section in the "Team Building" chapters. A lot of things are going on. Its not my "most favorite" out of everything I have written now, but its almost at the top of the list. The one I enjoyed the most is still a few chapters down the road. Until then, you can enjoy this one first. Have fun!

**Disclaimer: Bleach and its characters are owned by Tite Kubo**

**Shades Of Gray**

**Chapter 07: The Team Building II  
**

* * *

___"__Management means ... the substitution of thought for brawn and muscle, of knowledge for folkways and superstition, and of cooperation for force. It means the substitution of responsibility for obedience to rank, and of authority of performance for the authority of rank._"

_- Peter Drucker, Father of Modern Management  
_

* * *

"The fuck, Ulquiorra! Why the hell did you butt-hit my face, we're supposed to be team mates!"

Grimmjow hollered into his ears as the blue haired man behind him held on to nurse his nose, just immediately right after he had promptly brought down the butt of his paint ball hand gun at the Sexta's face. Grimmjow's other hand, and the whole length of his arm, was currently wrapped tightly around Ulquiorra's neck, almost to the point of strangling him. He irritatedly nudged his head away, trying to avoid getting choked to death from the Sexta's grip. His temper was boiling, and he was seeing red.

"For being stupid. Shut up. And don't breathe on me, I don't want to get poisoned with your morning breath," he gritted.

"Dammit Cuatro, stop being so melodramatic, it's just freakin' alcohol!"

He ignored the man on his back, and instead looked down at the team building course. The woman wasn't joking when she said today's itinerary was specifically for him. She booked an area in Karakura specifically designed for paintball, but with the added twist of being situated at a nearby moderate level vertical climbing rock face. They were all given ropes, shoes, harnesses and chalk bags, paintball masks, handguns and holsters, and then formed teams of three. The first team to have all of its surviving members to reach the top of the rock face, and gets the opposing team's flags, wins.

He got Tia and Grimmjow for his teammates. Somehow, he suspected the woman intentionally gave him Grimmjow to see what exactly he would do with a banged up six foot one Neanderthal, post hangover, which he wasn't all pleasantly happy to be with.

When the whistle went off, arbitrated by Barragan, he promptly came up to an unsteady looking Grimmjow and dragged the hungover Sexta to him, slinging his colleague's arms over his shoulders. Tia, catching on with the plan, shoved a half aware Grimmjow closely behind him. He quickly wrapped one of the available ropes around the Sexta, and finally knotting the ends across his own midsection, to make sure Grimmjow was in place and as snug to him on his back as possible. He knew Tia should be able to handle herself when they arrived midway ledge and dropped a rope down for her, but his other teammate was nursing a hangover and could barely stand.

And now after an excruciating thirty foot climb, with still fifteen more to go, the idiot suddenly came to and was hollering his mouth off. It didn't help that another idiot was egging Grimmjow on.

"Holy fuck Grimmjow, you look like you're back raping Ulquiorra!" a hysterically laughing Nnoitra called from the ground.

"You sick ass! Piss off Nnoitra!"

To say that his ears was being assaulted by his blue haired colleague was an understatement.

"Sexta, if you don't shut up I'm going to drop you. You're shouting at my ears," he retorted as he tried to solidly hang on the wall, despite the overgrown weight pressing on his back.

"Dammit Ulquiorra, stop being an ass!" He can feel the Sexta's spit raining on the back of his head and the nape of his neck. "You just dragged me here on your back without even consulting if it was ok with me!"

He doubted that his teammate realized he was shouting his voice off directly at his ears. He wasn't unfamiliar with the distortion effects of alcohol the morning after. He rolled his eyes.

"Just shut up and keep shooting at them, will you?" he reminded his teammate.

He looked over to see the other teams. Starrk was with Lilynette and Gin, while the other team was comprised of Aizen, Nnoitra and the woman.

He noticed she was actually doing relatively better than the last time they met. Nnoitra was belaying for her, and she even managed to take a couple of shots at them. Aizen was surprisingly also belayer free, but moving at a relatively slower pace than him. Gin turned out to be the surprise, as he snaked up with unexpected effortless ease across cracks in a roundabout way.

It looked like at least one from each team knew how to solo climb. It wouldn't have bothered him, he knew he could outmatch Aizen, and from the looks of it, possibly Gin, except at the moment he was also hauling a six foot one drunk Neanderthal on his back. He was heavy, and Ulquiorra was inching himself slowly through the holds with extreme effort.

He cast an eye on his boss. Aizen was actually matching the woman's speed, and providing some lateral support. His eyes narrowed. Aizen never sullied his hands with any of them. He suddenly realized that, that in itself, was out of the ordinary. But then again, Grimmjow was practically on top of him, and he never would've imagined such a scenario at all, either. He eyed a ledge a few feet to his right.

"Sexta, I'm going to have to jump to that portion over there to get to that midway ledge. Can you give a little momentum so I can carry us over?"

He didn't get any response. Instead, he felt a slow, heavy breathing coming from the man on his back. Indicating that despite the awkward position, the idiot actually managed to nod off again. No wonder Grimmjow was suddenly heavy.

"Sexta!"

" -WHAT?" Grimmjow jerked behind him at suddenly being brought out of his sleep.

"I'm going to propel us with a jump," he gritted, "can you give me a hand at the count of three?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to give you a hand?" He hissed, trying to point out that they were indisposed at the moment, still clinging on to Ulquiorra's neck. Ulquiorra rolled his eyes. This was ludicrous.

"Just lean towards that direction at the count of three, if you can manage a jump, the better, do it," he commanded, nodding his head to a section of the cliff.

"You're mental, Cuatro."

"Just do it, you imbecile. And keep shooting afterwards… and I don't mean with your mouth."

"Hell with it, shut your mouth, let's freaking go!"

A thousand expletives ran through Ulquiorra's head from being told to shut up by the eighty kilogram man on his back. Grimmjow was the one shouting at Nnoitra the whole time and barraging noise to his ears. If the pain he was feeling was actually reality, his ears would by bleeding profusely right at this very moment from all the abuse it's taken.

"I'm going to count it off," Grimmjow still hollered loudly, "One, two… THREE!"

Ulquiorra was waiting for "go" while the man at his back jumped at "three", and both were instantly thrown off balance by the mistiming. Ulquiorra clambered to grip the nearest crack he got his hands on to avoid slipping both of them to oblivion – at the moment, which was thirty feet down.

"- DAMMIT GRIMMJOW!"

"- WHAT THE FUCK ULQUIORRA! I SAID **THREE**!"

"Nya-yah… Wat da heck are ya two love birds doin'?"

Both of them immediately looked up at the sound of the silky voice, to see a smiling Gin hanging with one hand ten feet away from them, and the other pointing a gun.

Grimmjow, who was comfortably friendly with a gun – any type of gun – quickly raised his and pulled the trigger. It wasn't the best of aims, but it was good enough to stop Gin from firing. The silver haired man reacted instantly and would've been hit with a blue paintball if he did not quickly slithered out of position to the left. He was unexpectedly fast.

"Haha.. gotta be careful with Grimmy 'ere, wouldn't want lil' boys to play with wick'd toys…" he teased, and started snaking up again in a zigzag way.

"Dammit Gin! You already have my next month's salary!"

"Can we avoid the conversations until later? We're thirty feet off ground here," Ulquiorra retorted.

"If you're so worried about falling, why the hell didn't you put on a harness, you dumbass?! Are you trying to get us both killed?"

Bad enough that he was carrying Grimmjow, he had to put up with his comments. "Shut up, Sexta. You make one more useless comment, I _will_ drop you, you imbecile, make no mistake."

He heard Grimmjow give a snort.

"Ok fine, Cuatro. On three, you got that? Really this time, on 'THREE'."

"Fine, count it off."

"One, two, … THREE!"

Both of them leapt simultaneously and Ulquiorra latched on the midway ledge, climbing to stand on top of it. He immediately tied one of the ropes he was carrying, and dropped them down to Tia, who took it on her hands and straightaway started deftly climbing up. He didn't have to worry about her – she was actually military trained by Israeli forces, being part of the military team during the Entebbe, Uganda incident, before being court martialed during her late twenties. Although its been years, she should still have the skills still ingrained from climbing such a basic course. He knew she was also good with a gun, only second to Starrk, the department unanimously agreed gunslinger. He wouldn't be surprised if Starrk believed in ka-tet and was previously called Roland Deschain in another life.

He scanned the rest of the teams to see their status. Gin was already nearing the top and would likely set up and drop a rope for Lilynette and Starrk once the girl arrived midway, which was very likely soon. Starrk could handle a climb with a rope himself quite efficiently, so the bottleneck was with Lilynette, but that would be premature thought, at the least. He knew she only wanted to try climbing herself, but once Starrk arrived at the midway point, it was going to be an easy piggy back for her relatively light weight, on the way to the top. Trust both Primera team leads to laze about and ignore the rules – both of them only wanted to have fun and lacked the competitive streak. He could see Lilynette giggling while she propelled herself upwards, while the senior Primera looked bored and whacked out at the ground, holding steadily on the belay ropes. The main problem would be Gin when he and Grimmjow reached the top.

The woman was also almost up to the midway point, a much bigger lead than Lilynette, and he could see Aizen ahead rigging a secondary top rope and belay setup for her. Nnoitra was still on ground, cussing no less, hurrying the woman forward. He narrowed his eyes. Although she was doing much better than the last time he saw her, she was out of place in the whole Arrancar team leads - they collectively called themselves the Espada – and most of them had criminal and military records. Precisely why they were working at Arrancar Corporation and were all quite handy with their hands and feet at the moment. Suddenly he wondered why Aizen decided to hire the woman. She was completely out of place. Even stranger was the clearance to trust this newcomer with their personal records – they were extremely confidential, with all their histories – he knew, because he was the one who provided Gin the hard copies to pass to her, after all.

And the strangest thing of all was that although completely surrounded by violent individuals – and he was quite aware she knew – she looked simply unfazed by all of them.

It was a bit disconcerting to see her surrounded by savages like them. But it was probably a puzzle for another time. He needed to get an eighty kilogram monkey up fifteen more feet to the top. He could tell Grimmjow was still a bit shot out, and despite the current situation, Nnoitra, with his long legs, would easily scale up when the woman arrived midway. Which would probably be in less than five minutes.

"Are you awake yet, Grimmjow? It would help if I wasn't carrying deadweight up."

"Dammit Cuatro! You think I'm have a fucking nap right now? I've been up hours ago. You're just rubbing me the wrong way, you freak. This is the last time I'm going to hang around you and letting your filthy hands on me!"

He sighed at his teammate's brash reply, wondering if the idiot actually filtered anything. "Fine. As long as you're awake. We're going up. When we get there, Aizen and Gin will probably be waiting on us. Try to forget they're our bosses, and remember to point the gun at them and make sure you hit."

"Ha! These babies are not going to let me down, and I'm going to fucking hit Gin's smirking face with them," he raised the gun in his hands in the air to reiterate his point.

If it wasn't bad enough he had Grimmjow for a teammate, but he also had to put up with his next comment.

"Giddyup, Batman," he smirked.

Well, it looks like the woman has been warm enough to befriend this idiot and know about the abominable tumbler.

But a conundrum for another day. He heaved himself to the second part of the rock face, with the Sexta still tied behind him. There's going to be hell to pay later when this whole preposterous debacle was over.

* * *

"Inoue, that was great!"

"Thanks, Kurosaki-kun!"

Ulquiorra glanced back as he took in the two orange heads in conversation. Apparently, she asked her friend's help to arrange this whole arrangement. He looked down at himself, as well as the colorful mask he had on his hands. He was splattered green and yellow all over his chest. He sighed.

By the time both he and Grimmjow arrived at the top, Starrk and Lilynette had also already arrived and immediately raised both their artilleries at them. He got the bulk of the paint on his body, mostly green, since the Sexta was snugly hidden behind his back and was throwing shots at the first team, hitting both Gin and Starrk right on their faces.

Aizen was on the other end of the field and shot him repeatedly in the face, unsuccessfully trying to do a hit on Grimmjow. Hence the completely covered yellow mask in his hands. Immediately right after, the woman climbed up and shot the first colorful thing she saw – which was also him.

He was essentially Grimmjow's human shield and the primary walking target for everyone else, since he had the gargantuan monkey tied to him and couldn't even defend himself or roll away from the firing line. He only had time to put on his own mask before all hell broke lose. Trust the Sexta to take advantage of that.

The woman was eventually hit by Lilynette, but not before Aizen rounded her up. He grabbed Orihime and used her as a human shield, and when Grimmjow hesitated, the top man of Karakura's Arrancar Division finally landed a shot on Grimmjow right between the eyes. Aizen eventually waited for Tia to arrive, but was surprised to find himself with blue paint splattered on him before he could release a shot at her. Nnoitra gunned Tia down at the back right after, then strutted to get their flags and claim victory.

He sighed again. He was a sorry sight, even he knew it. He just dropped himself and sat cross legged on the hard dusty floor, and closed his eyes.

And Barragan was going around taking pictures.

He heard slow steps rustling towards him, but ignored them altogether. He was slightly disoriented with that idiot Grimmjow breathing down his neck the whole time. He took a few breaths to neutralize himself and reached for a small container in he kept in his side pocket, popping a pill into his mouth, and swallowed.

"Yo."

He looked at clean blue sneakers on the dust-covered ground, and glanced up to find the towering orange haired boy looking down at him.

"I guess you're the unfortunate one that got creamed, huh? There's always one in a paintball. I got creamed the last time I was in one too." He slowly extended his right hand to offer to help him up.

Ulquiorra stared at it. He saw scars across the knuckles. Old ones, one on top of the other, all over the four protruding joints. One of them was slightly off and asymmetric. He glanced at the other hand, noticing that they had similar scars.

"Kurosaki Ichigo."

Ulquiorra reached out and held on, feeling callouses all over the boy's palms, particularly at the base underneath the knuckles, and unsurprisingly, also at the fingertips. A strong, firm grip. He tugged Ulquiorra with a balanced jerk to bring him up. He stood up and dusted his pants for a few seconds, before turning his attention back to the boy.

"Ulquiorra Cifer."

"So, I guess you're the one Inoue was setting up this whole joint for," he eyed Ulquiorra closely, studying him. The scowl looked like a permanent feature on this face.

"So she said," he replied in monotone.

"She was working on it for a while, she seemed quite sure of what she wanted."

"It's her job."

"Yeah…well, she wanted it perfect. We had to scour several sites before we got this place. Specifically needed a outdoor climb."

He merely kept his silence.

"You were pretty good out there. I would be hard pressed having a guy almost twice my size draped on my back while getting up the course at the rate you were going."

_So he was looking._ He inspected the boy. "He was an idiot and impecabbly stoned."

"Yeah, I kinda noticed that," the boy waved his hands towards a Grimmjow now lying on the ground and virtually conked out. "The others weren't bad either." His eyes went towards Gin, Aizen and Starrk, and finally ended with Nnoitra. Ulquiorra noticed that they were only the entirety of the men in the Arrancar group. The boy's brown eyes finally settled on the woman, who was farther away from them, talking excitedly with Lilynette. Both of them were laughing at Grimmjow who was snoring on the dusty, hard caked ground.

"Considering your friend is looks dead stoned at the moment, I'm surprised he managed to hit two shots in the face at first try. He's pretty handy with his gun." He continued in a casual, offhand manner, but Ulquiorra noted that the amber eyes said otherwise.

Ulquiorra shrugged noncommittally.

"You're all pretty handy with a gun," the boy again reiterated.

Ulquiorra deadpanned, his face betraying nothing. "We merely made it a point to get into the activity. It's of no worth for your friend if we did not get ourselves into the game and did not play hard."

"I can see that." The boy casually nodded towards Grimmjow. A few feet away, Lilynette and the woman were still laughing to the Sexta's immobile, post-alcohol state.

"You seem to play hard enough to consider use human shields, like your blue haired colleague other there," the boy expounded.

"I didn't have sufficient time to release the ropes around me," he answered simply, carefully avoiding the implied meaning the boy was insinuating.

"Yeah, I saw that, too." His eyes came back to Ulquiorra, almost with a hint of challenge in them. The fool didn't seem to be apprehensive in any way, despite the insinuation he was implying of them.

"I don't know what's up with you guys, but I've seen enough to know I didn't like the way your friends grab women for human shields."

_This is ... interesting. _He kept silent and merely eyed the boy, not bothering a response.

"Just because you guys hired her doesn't mean she's exclusively yours, maybe you can remind your friends that."

"Maybe you should ask her yourself, instead," Ulquiorra stated blandly.

"I-"

Before the boy had the chance to finish his sentence, he was cut off as the woman came on to the both of them with her bubbling giggles. The change with him was startling, to say the least.

"Kurosaki-kun!"

"Hey Inoue."

"I see you've met Ulquiorra-san," the woman chirped heartily, looking back at the both of them. "I didn't think you would be carrying a hang-over Grimmjow from last night!" she clapped excitedly.

"Woman, I told you to call me Ulquiorra –"

He noticed the boy's eyes tense up at his words, wondering what caused the sudden concern.

"And I told you to call me Inoue Orihime, and you never follow through!" she answered brightly. Then suddenly, her whole face crumpled. She whimpered.

"Ieeee! Is that from me?" She was staring at a large yellow paint mark that splat across his chest in stark horror.

Without warning, Ulquiorra got the wind knocked off him, and he found the woman suddenly grabbing his midsection and hugging him tightly, at the same time apologizing profusely.

"Sorry! Sorry! Ulquiorra-san! Sorry! I didn't mean to!"

In irritation, he stared at her while she continued to mumble her excuses. He did not like being touched, much less by a woman, and someone he has barely known for two weeks. He grabbed her shoulders and tried to pry her apart from him, glancing at the same time at her friend, being careful not to put too much force to hurt her. She wasn't budging. He must've looked quite hopeless at her orange haired friend, unsure what to do at this situation, prompting Ichigo to also speak up.

"Inoue, I'm sure he's alright. He doesn't mind, right, Ulquiorra?" Ichigo suggested, also tugging her shoulders gently away from him.

"But I shot him!" she whimpered, turning her head to face her tall, orange haired friend, still not letting go.

"Inconsequential, woman. I'm in one piece," he followed the friend's example and pushed her gently back to extract himself. He felt her release hesitantly. He tugged his splattered shirt to straighten them out, looking back at the scene in front of him. He didn't miss to notice the tightening on Ichigo's lips when he called the woman in front of him. But it was gone in a quick flash.

"Alright… if you say so…" she quietly conceded.

"Yes," he answered, eyeing her cautiously for any other unexpected attack.

To his curiosity, she suddenly changed moods in a flash, from her quiet, apologetic disposition to a sunny one, turning to her friend. "You remember him, do you Kurosaki-kun? He was the one I was telling you about, the one who was nice enough to help me when we went to the indoor climb a while back... when Renji slipped his foot."

A recognition flitted on the boy's face. This time, he lost some of the tension on his face. "Oh didn't recognize him, he was way up enough to see," he glanced at Ulquiorra, "Thanks man. We do owe you one for helping her out. My friend holding her up was being careless."

He eyed the boy coldly.

"I would have been more correct to say that you should refrain from getting idiots in keeping your friends safe."

Ichigo balked at the pointed statement the man exchanged.

He looked at the boy. "The woman here would have had her spine cracked in two from dropping at such a height. There wasn't even a person manning to place a crash pad underneath her. You were clearly the imbecile in charge."

"Ahh—ahh… Ulquiorra-san, I'm sure Kurosaki-kun is already feeling repentant from that incident, no need to –"

"I'm just pointing out how irresponsible he is."

Seeing how pointless it was to rein the Cuatro's audacity, Orihime turned to Ichigo instead, to make sure he wasn't affronted by her colleague's sharp tongue. Ichigo was quite short fused. Sometimes there was no telling how he would react.

"Kurosaki-kun, you have to forgive Ulquiorra-san here, he's… a bit frank for his own good…"

"I can see that." He turned towards Orihime, whispering, ignoring the man who just attacked him. "Are you sure this guy is not related to Ishida? He's got the same telltale nasty tongue with me." He pointed at Ulquiorra.

"Eh… not that I know of…"

Ulquiorra watched the exchange between the two friends with something akin to interest as they walked away from him. Both were reduced to bantering and embarrassed apologies, although he did notice this Ichigo was standing protectively over the woman, his hands extended and draped lightly over the woman's shoulders. Was the boy the woman's partner? Was that the reason why he's seen him with her all three times they've met? She clearly took this boy's opinion highly, if he was the first person she approached for a task at her job. And the boy was actually perceptive enough to recognize all of them weren't your average run-in-the-mill yuppie, and even actually threatened them to keep away from her. He tsked. Or what?

She was working with them eight hours a day, five days a week in the office. With the likes of idiot Grimmjow and Nnoitra in the vicinity. Its hardly possible for him to assure the woman would be safe. Which brought him back to his earlier thoughts of the woman. He looked in her direction. She ran back up to him alone, after dispatching her orange haired friend away.

The woman approached him, smiling.

"So Ulquiorra-san, how'd you find it this time? Had fun?"

"It was acceptable."

"What? Only acceptable? I would've thought you'd like that."

He stared at her, and looked down at his painted shirt.

"Oh, that. Well, you were a human target, weren't you?"

"I wouldn't be, if I hadn't had to carry the Sexta on my back."

"Yes, I saw that. I thought it was funny," she giggled.

"I will not be mocked, woman."

"Oh no.. no.. not you. Its just that, Grimmjow was so huge, and he was hanging on to you like a scaredy-cat."

"He was breathing on my face, it wasn't very humorous to me."

"Well, don't worry, you were pretty impressive. So... how much did Grimmjow weigh, anyway?"

"Likely about eighty kilograms."

"Oh, no wonder you could pull me up the last time so easily, if you were able to carry Grimmjow without any problems. Hmmm... " She tapped her lips, "I guess you wouldn't have a problem carrying me either, huh?"

His eyes blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"Can you give me a piggy back ride and run around? I don't think I haven't been carried on the back since I was a kid…" she looked hopeful.

"You can ask your orange-haired friend to help you with that." He tersely pointed out. _Ridiculous._

"Oh, you mean Kurosaki-kun? But they're not much fun when it comes to those things, they think I'm childish," she explained carefully, as if it was of the utmost consequence. "You guys, on the other hand, are like kids. I especially like Grimmjow, he's funny, except the violent outbursts you guys typically have."

"Then get the blue haired idiot to carry you around."

"I would probably, but you look a little more secure than he is. He's been bumping his hands and feet at me since we met, accidentally, of course. It wouldn't do if he suddenly let go carelessly." She smiled, waiting.

He narrowed his eyes. He didn't like the way she was asking him to give her a piggy back ride. He was not a donkey.

"Don't be ridiculous, woman."

Maybe the woman was not entirely normal, after all. He stared at her, her smiling features completely oblivious to any sort of indecency from this ludicrous suggestion of hers. No one in their right mind asked people they barely know to carry them for fun, and he was not known in the office for being particularly friendly with anyone, much less the person in front of him. She could have some sort of mental problem – no one could be that enthusiastic and inanely happy like the dimwitted, persistent child that she is. Yes, that would make more sense for Aizen to hire someone like her, broken much like the rest of them in their own way, although how that would help their situation was currently amiss for him. Everything about her is fidgety, her hands flitting back and forth, or making gesticulations while talking, her voice overly enthusiastic, almost dripping with happiness every time, her head flinging this way and that in agreement or disagreement. He did not like unnecessary movements, so the only thing he did was what he would always do to people like her. His eyes bored into those large brown eyes – almost like doe eyes – and blanked out the rest of the annoying distractions. Most of them would eventually look away in due time. If there was a staring contest, he doubted that he would lose.

Except her eyes were proving distracting as well… most people would just look away. But she just looked at him, unaffected, her irises perpetually flitting this way and that, and constantly blinking, and all the while still waiting at him. He could see the crinkle in her eyes as she humorously smiled at him while she anticipated for his response to her request. But he did already, didn't he? What is she waiting for? What is wrong with her?

"You do know I have a name, right? Why do you insist on calling me 'woman'? My name is Orihime. Say it. O-RI-HI-ME," she chirped.

"I will call you whatever I like, woman."

"Aww come on. What if we saw each other on the busy streets? You can hardly call me without having the rest of the female population turn to you either."

"First off, I will not 'call' you when I see you on the street. So the odds of your suggestion happening are completely non-existent."

"Its not just me, is it? I mean, you must call Harribel-san something when you work with her or see her down the hall in the office, right?"

Silence.

"You mean you never called her by her name at all?"

"I am already acknowledging you by calling you woman. Be thankful. Please do not make a fuss out of it. Its tiresome."

"But you call Grimmjow by his name, right? You don't have a thing against women, do you?"

"Idiot."

"What? I'm not!"

"I meant that is how I refer to him. Idiot."

"Fine. How about Nnoitra?"

"He's also another idiot."

She pursed her lips. "You have an awfully limited vocabulary,…."

He kept staring into her eyes, hoping she would just get the point and leave.

"How about Aizen? He's the boss, you wouldn't by any chance call him an idiot, would you?"

Ulquiorra is pretty much at his wits end. The conversation was absolutely inconsequential, and he was not known for small chat, and this one was entirely without merit. He did not understand why he was still standing there talking to the woman. Although he had to admit, she is not a horrendous sight to behold, he knew from memory that she was shapely, the conversation itself was absolutely devoid of imperative substance. Maybe it is the outright ridiculousness of it all that was keeping him at his place. The last few times she was within speaking vicinity of him, he was still ascertaining the reality of the person in front of him. Sparks were still flying out this way and that when she spoke, and by now he was entirely sure that the person in front of him was not an illusion of the mind – she existed, living, breathing and all, complete with all the bodily functions that was both disgustingly human and necessary. Her interactions with everyone proved that. So did the big splotch of yellow paint splattered across his chest.

"Oh wait. You called him Aizen-sama the first time we talked! I mean, not the first time, but the time when we officially met in the office- "

Orihime was startled when the normally stoic and unresponsive man took a step towards her and closed the gap between them, but this time his chest and his face towering over her and only inches from hers. Her voice eluded her and her words were stopped short as she automatically looked up and realized how close Ulquiorra was; Whether or not it was the warmth of his body due to the proximity, or the creeping embarrassment that was suddenly flushing the blood to her face, or both, she didn't know. All she knew is that she was close enough to be asserted immediately by her senses, made more acute by her own self awareness. She could smell the raw, dry earth and dust that covered his body from his climb earlier, merged together with the sharp, synthetic smell of the drying paint on this chest. On top of both was also a scent of something strong and distinctly aquamarine. She could hear the slight rustle of his ebony black hair as the wind turned up and disturbed the edge of his short tresses. She could see the tiny splotches of forest green and canary yellow paint splattered at the ends of his sleeves. But all that was merely secondary to the deafening silence and stillness coming from the man in front of her, his face as stone cold and as dispassionate, yet his eyes, contrary to the blankness his features otherwise portrayed, looking more dangerous and threatening than she'd ever seen. Despite the few times she had looked uneasily into them, he was always a step or two away. Being so close brought her inches from those eyes...and this wasn't random anger she saw. It wasn't irritation.

It was cold, calculated, and dangerous. His eyes were mere pinpricks, almost disappearing in a sea of green. It spelled an instinctive habit that had been done many times, and a certain secret anticipation of the aftermath only he knew of, that nobody did... including her. She could see absolute certainty in his sharp, green eyes. His eyes told more than what the rest of his blank face did. Infinitely more. He knew what would happen next... and she didn't.

For the first time, she was suddenly scared. Very scared. Scared because despite the past few incidents with him, she knew she was seeing Ulquiorra now... for who he truly is.

Cold. Calculated. _Dangerous._

He uttered a single, solitary, commanding word.

"Silence."

She could sense his warm, masculine breath brushing past her cheeks as he uttered the lone word in strict command. His face was inches to hers. Her mouth became suddenly parched and dry, and the thudding heartbeat was frantically pushing against her throat and temples. Alarm bells sounded in her head. _Too close. _

She stood frozen, as she did the yesterday. But this was far more terrifying, because she knew he was in his primal state. His instinctive state. A state that did not think. One that did not consider. One that was as natural as killing for self preservation. He will not turn back. Her mind screamed a second time.

_TOO CLOSE!  
_

He saw her brown eyes widened to large round orbs, and Ulquiorra could see her pupils dilated. Normally he did not step so closely to anyone, but during his doubts of irritation, he completely forgot the commonplace concept of private space. In fact, this did not exist for him, he simply thought that everything was public, at least, his world extended outwards to those that surrounded and interacted with him, including those living and moving in it. They were an irritation to be reckoned with, but to his mind, they were fully within his realm, not theirs. It gives him a right to do whatever he pleased and respond accordingly. This little step did not bother him the least, as compared to average people, except for the fact that he had to respond to alien sensations to opposite beings in close proximity. But the irregularity, they always never last – there was nothing strange or new that cannot be fixed with the swat of his will, against others. _Nothing._

He looked down to find the auburn haired girl flushed with reddened cheeks.

"I.. I…" Orihime stammered.

He started to move decisively, like a precision clockwork of a master artisan. He raised his hands to stop the woman's lips, to earn his silence. It was also then that he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Ulquiorra."

Interrupted with his thoughts, he turned to find a broadly smiling Aizen beside him.

"You wouldn't be taking retribution from our lovely human resources colleague, are you? I did hit you with more paintballs."

"No, Aizen-sama." He took a slight controlled step back, at the same time noticing the woman trying to regain her composure, sweat beaded on her forehead, slightly breathing irregularly, and moving slowly and carefully away from his direction.

Aizen similarly noticed, facing her and gracing her with a smile. "Orihime-san, that was quite a shooting you did back there," He raised his fingers to his lips, as if about to reveal a secret, but instead explained something else.

"Did you know that in the wild, some preys submit and surrender to the predator despite being uninjured, and could still have the possibility of escape?"

She shook her head sideways in the negative.

"Some physiologists call this altered state the 'immobility' or 'freezing' response. It is one of the three primary responses available to reptiles and mammals when faced with an overwhelming threat, the other two more commonly known, as fight and flight," He expounded in a scholarly, gentle manner to the girl. "In fact, many indigenous people view this phenomenon as a surrender of the spirit of the prey to the predator, which, in a manner of speaking, it is."

"Its precisely what our Ulquiorra here was in, when he was standing in the middle of the field, immobile, when you shot him." His smile broadened warmly when she looked at Aizen in askance on his explanation, but recalling what transpired earlier.

"You were quite the predator, Orihime," he smiled, "Make sure you do not immobilize our Ulquiorra in the future with your natural predatory instincts." He gestured towards Ulquiorra, who was standing blankly and silently beside him, sharply contrasting to Aizen's open and inviting arms.

"Besides, did you know that immobility states are also intrinsic in humans... In fact, it is something we acquired when we were still primates living in the wild and wasn't on top of the food chain yet. Interesting the relationships of evolution has passed on, no?" He smiled. "Wouldn't do to have our Cuatro espada here immobilized, otherwise I would never have him to get his work done on time for me, yes?"

Ulquiorra eyed his senior warily as Aizen continued his conversation with Orihime. He knew a reprimand when he saw one, and he knew he was directly at the receiving end of it, despite appearances. He stood by and waited, flustered by his absolute lack of control on his bearings, while displaying no outward signs of his thoughts. Despite the fact that it was minimal, he was best known for his control. He did not make mistakes, especially obvious ones, in front of people outside the office, where people like his woman's friend so clearly close by.

He transferred his attention on the auburn haired woman in front of him, now already animatedly talking to Aizen. He shouldn't have been easily distracted. Whatever was in store for this whiff of a woman, it was imperative that he respond as he always did – whether woman, Grimmjow or that fool Nnoitra – with his head in the right place. It is merely stated for a fact that the effort of engaging with them was not worth it. No, not at all.

He turned around without repose, and walked away.

* * *

Aizen looked kindly at the his young, new human resources employee. "So Orihime, how do you find the first two weeks of the job? That was a good bit of team work you arranged back here."

"It's fine, although I did have a bit of a hard time trying to start, but it was okay once I had the ball rolling." She cautiously eyed the boss of Arrancar Corporation's Karakura Division. The many times she has been with him, he merely smiled and have kept his silence. It was the first time he had actively engaged her in conversation.

"How did you find the people in the office so far?"

"Well, they're a bit rowdy…" she meekly replied.

To her surprise, Aizen chuckled. "Rowdy is such a polite word. Hardly what I would use to describe our little Karakura team."

She smiled in earnest.

"Do you have any concerns about the environment?" he inquired.

"Eh? Oh no, its particularly fine. I just bump into Grimmjow a lot, but things are progressing quite well with him, actually."

"Oh? Tamin' da pussy?" Gin came over, "ello lil' Princess, nice climbing ya did back der."

Before she could eye the silver haired man with suspicion, it was immediately overridden by his blunt words to describe the Sexta. Her cheeks flamed.

"Nyaaa... what a reaction," Gin laughed, "He likes his Panthera nickname… I jus like ta call him pussy ta aggravate him. It seems more suited ta him by all means," the CFO smiled at her. "You've certainly tamed 'im ta have him coming over ya fully drunk last night. He's barely been chummy wit' anyone in a while. Nice going."

She blushed further with embarrassment. Even if it was Gin, it was the first reasonable compliment she had actually received from him. It was good to know they recognized that she was making a bit of a connection.

"How do you find Nnoitra?" Aizen asked.

"Well, he's a little bit scary than most…" she continued meekly at the two board of directors in front of her, a bit self conscious of the attention she was getting.

"Even compared to our Cuatro espada? You must be joking," Gin chuckled.

A reminder of the green eyed man suddenly put her in defensive. "Oh Ulquiorra-san is not all that bad. Most of the times he's quite mild mannered –"

"Ya mean he doesn't talk or react much, rite?" Gin interjected.

She hastily defended. "I mean, he's occasionally short fused, but he doesn't make any physical contact of sorts. I mean, sticks and stones right, but names are just names..." she trailed off. What was she saying? Saying bad things about her colleagues in front of these two top people of the company?

"Oh, ya, but it seems ya got his temper flaring aside from him interestin' outburst yest'day," Gin added, "I haven't seen that in a while, Aizen. The last and only time I recall was when he socked Grimmjow after meeting him fo' the first time an' having a few friendly exchanges."

Orihime back pedalled. She didn't want to get anyone into trouble. Even if it was Ulquiorra. "Wait… I mean, he doesn't get irritated all the time… just once, really. Its nothing much, but there was just some rather verbal exchanges, but I don't mind them." Have to say something nice, and truthful. "He always keeps his head, and he looks to be reliable and trustworthy," she added.

"You are correct in thinking that, Orihime. He's my most trusted Espada here, both in terms of getting things done, and responsibility. I trust him absolutely."

This admission surprised Orihime, considering that Ulquiorra was merely the fourth team lead. It would seem more natural to trust your first hand than the fourth. Almost as if reading her mind, Aizen continued, "I believe you have met Starrk during your interviews?"

"Yes."

"Although him and his partner Lilynette are exceptional together, their personalities are somewhat to the lazy side and tend to procrastinate on occasions. But not too much. They are both fully capable to finish their projects on time, but their discipline are not as noteworthy as the Cuatro's. Additionally, it does benefit to be a one man team, after all."

She nodded, remembering how careful and obsessive Ulquiorra was during the past couple of times she's met with him.

A question popped in her head.. something she's always been curious. "Out of curiosity, ... do they work on similar projects?"

"No, I usually assign what is the most appropriate for them. The nature of their work differs based on their working style. It wouldn't make sense to have a mountain wolf to forage for fruits, insects and frogs while get a nocturnal bat to hunt for large four footed elks. To each their own. They will thrive in the right environment."

She was right. This really was a good company to work in. Management play to each person's strengths and minimize their weaknesses, so that they get full potential. And she realized that in the few sentences she had just had with him, talking to Aizen was quite easy. He talked more about how people are than most of the team leads she's met in the company. And he spoke casually as if he had a full understanding of his employees. He spoke less about technological jargon, and more about people and management. It also helped that he seemed in tune with her perspective... so far with her conversation with him, he concentrated mostly on natural perspectives, and could clearly understand effortlessly. It made her feel less pressured. In fact, she felt quite settled.

"In fact, how to you find our Cuatro?" Aizen asked.

She decided that it was alright to tell him the truth. He probably knew more about them than she did.

"He seems a little more detached to the others…."

"Yes, he usually works alone. That is the important point about him. He does not work as effectively with the others, but he does present a thorough and complete assessment to his work," Aizen smiled. "It would probably not come as a surprise, seeing that today's activity was a good match to him. I would chance an educated guess that you tailored this one with him in mind."

She beamed cheerily, finding that it was so easy to not have to explain things for once.

"His collaborative skills could be more beneficial if he cooperates much better with others. It is a challenging task, and I would even do it myself, but I have others to manage, and it seems that you have made a introductory rapport with him."

Introductory rapport? Really? Is that what that was? She was thinking more along the lines of antagonization, instead. She giggled inwardly.

"But let me make this explicit," he stated seriously, "Could I request that you concentrate more of your work on him? It would be an advantage to him, and to his colleagues."

She stopped, remembering what had just happened a few minutes ago. She had just had a glimpse of Ulquiorra... a sliver of him, and her mind spelled danger is all caps. He really was dangerous. Did she want to work on him?

But Aizen wouldn't have asked if he knew she wouldn't be able to handle it. He already explained his philosophy on managing his Karakura team. Playing on strengths, minizing weakness. And she's not going to let Ulquiorra stop her again. She could do it. "It would be no problem for me, but he has an irregular work schedule, and the fact that he works alone in his own floor. The chances that we meet are really quite small…"

"Do not worry about that. I will make arrangements, as long as you agree to this little request. Are we in agreement?"

She wondered what kind of arrangement Aizen was talking about. Ulquiorra, the coldly stoic man, would not welcome any sort of change in his routines, and she was oddly curious to find out what would be in store.

She slowly nodded in assent.

"Good," Aizen nodded in serious confirmation. "It seems I have made the right choice by taking you in to this company."

She smiled. And it seems like she has just found her mystery supporter. She glanced at Gin. He was still wearing his smirk.

Before Aizen went to join the rest of his team, who were looking at Barragan's pictures, he turned to her.

"Oh yes, Orihime. I would also like a report on the outcome of this and a progress report on a weekly basis. I find your thoughts quite refreshing, and complementary to what I expected from your background. You do not disappoint. You've done impressive analysis and work in the short time you've been with us, I appreciate that. Keep up the good work."

* * *

**AN:** Sorry, I did it again... Ulquiorra is now an official loser *evil snicker* But, oh look. Ichigo being protective, Aizen's being nice (can you imagine that?), Gin's being Gin, and a Grimmjow-Ulquiorra rapport (I really enjoyed that). Gawd, I really like the image of Ulquiorra being creamed by everyone, even by Orihime!

Hoped you liked the Ulquiorra POV. Though... just, ... please don't cream me, I know you guys like Ulquiorra, but then, as I said, he wasn't nice in the manga to begin with, either. I love him dearly to bits, too, honest. He's going to turn around, I promise! I mean, that's what makes me so excited writing this. It's just that these things don't happen overnight, that's all. Can you imagine kissing someone you absolutely hate from a class / in the office after just meeting them for two weeks? ...nah. :)

So, did you enjoy this one? Reviews please! Really, _I'm serious_. It's harder for me to write when my favorite chapters don't get any responses. It makes me wonder if its just all in my head, and I'd like to know if it really is. As they always, say, "you have to be cruel to be kind", so don't rein any negative opinions in. If you think you have something _REALLY_ negative and don't want to be harsh by posting it where everyone can see (unlike what Ulquiorra did to Orihime, lambasting her in front of everyone during the team building), then PM me instead. So, give it a go! Send me your impressions, it will help me, and you at the same time :)


	9. 08 The Arrangement

**AN: **I apologize for the slight delay. I had a hand injury and couldn't type for a few days. I'm all well now, though, so that's over. Back to what I originally wanted to say:

Two words: _Pay attention. _Want it longer? Six words. Pay attention to what you read. "To what..." you ask irritatedly. "You so far have an ongoing count of 60k+ of words for this fanfic, and I don't see a freaking Ulquihime in sight!"

Author points a finger straight at Ulquiorra. _Pay attention to him._

If you love Ulquiorra as much as I do, hanging here in fanfiction just to read his stories, you could be curious with him at this point, instead of being angry at him. Well, ok, maybe 90% angry. I haven't seen anyone raise their hands yet on why they'd be curious. (who would be, after he ripped Orihime several times? alright, except for an obvious save in chapter 3, yes I liked that too) Many of you have left your wonderfully helpful reviews, and there are also lurkers out there who haven't said anything, even up until now... but they're still reading *author also waves hands to them in appreciation* Either you see it, or hoping that all this is worth it, somehow, soon. I am now officially putting out this signage to make sure you don't miss anything. Pay attention, and I can assure you, it will be well worth it :)___**  
**_

**Disclaimer: Bleach and its characters are owned by Tite Kubo. ****All other entities and intellectual properties mentioned herein are proprietary to their respective owners - net send by Microsoft. ********************I admit they are not mine.** Otherwise, the idea of this story belongs to the author - me**********. **  


**Shades Of Gray**

**Chapter 08: The Arrangement  
**

* * *

"_Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage."_

_- Richard Lovelace, English Poet_

* * *

He stared at her form. She had her head down, and looked as if she was busy writing notes in one of several notebooks piled up on her desk. This one had crude caricature of the Sexta at the upper left hand corner of her current page. She was humming.

Ulquiorra hated coming to the seventh floor. He hated coming to any floor, except his. He reminded himself why he was here in the first place. Already standing a minute on top of the woman's cubicle, and she was still oblivious to him, or anything happening around her... she really was trouble waiting to happen in this office. He eyed her and her notebook grimly. He could see the same flowing script from his 'tumbler' written all over the page, catching glimpses of words "aggressive" and "capable of wanton destruction" on the page. She still continued to hum happily to herself despite the words she was writing. The humming was irritating him, and he was not going to prolong it any longer than necessary.

"Woman."

She suddenly jerked upright at his voice, and looked up while he noticed her hands flying to cover the page she was earlier writing on. He could see both surprise and question in her eyes.

"O-oh-Oh.. umm... hello Ulquiorra-san. What are you doing here?"

He could see her edging herself away from him and trying to discreetly close her notebook shut. Was the woman really going to pretend in front of him? He could clearly see the Sexta's name written at the lower right hand corner of the cover.

"Pack these things," he pointed at the stack of folders and notebooks on the table she was working on, "As well as your valuables. You are coming with me."

"I am?"

He ignored her comment and proceeded with his own.

"I will be back in ten minutes. Get all these sorted, ensure that they're ready when I get back."

"But –"

There was no point listening to her anymore. He had said what he came to say. He stepped away and walked back to the direction of Syazel's office.

* * *

Ten minutes later, exactly on the dot, Ulquiorra came out from her supervisor's office and turned to her location. She watched him curiously as he came up to her desk.

"Are you done?" he asked, looking down on her.

She wasn't sure what was happening. But it was the first time she had actually seen the Cuatro in any of office floors, barring Grimmjow's knife pulling act during her first week. He was away from his own floor now, and she was oddly curious. Orihime had brought out her hand bag from the locked office cabinet, and all the things Ulquiorra indicated earlier, all neatly piled up together on the table, just to see what was about to happen.

She had to admit she was slightly nervous after crossing swords with the man at yesterday's team building. She didn't like what she saw. Seeing him after the paintball session, how he had dangerously stepped up to her so suddenly and acted without thought, as if about to subdue. Pinpricks. His pupils were pinpricks, and people's eyes do not become pinpricks for no reason.

But his current action certainly baited her right this very moment. It was strange to have him prompting himself to initiate talk with her now; he never talked to her unless she started it, and even sometimes, he didn't even talk back even when she did ask him a question. He clearly thought she was second rate, in any case. But she decided to see what he wanted. It was a first, and first times are always interesting.

"Yes," she pointed at her things. She saw him eye them.

"Come." He reached over her divider and grabbed the notebooks she pointed, then promptly left her cubicle.

"Wait-wait, Ulquiorra-san, those are my work!"

She immediately stood up to chase the man who had suddenly taken her notebooks away, and as an afterthought, picked up her bag from the table, not wanting to leave it out in the open for all to... well, steal, or whatever it is that this company still had hidden away about it's colorful employees. Ulquiorra was already further away than she expected. The man definitely walked fast. She chased after him, and more importantly, chased after the notebooks he was holding on to. "Please give those ba-!"

She saw him switch her things to his other hand, away from her reach, quickening his pace, while he continued to ignore her. Then after a second, he seemed to have changed his mind about non-responsiveness, and spoke as he moved further away.

"Follow."

Yes, that's what she's doing. Everyone was supposed to 'follow' a person who have apparently stolen their things and taken them without permission. Evidently, he didn't seem to think that this was normal, and felt the need for it to be spoken out loud. She tried to keep her pace up, and looked at him frantically. Her heels were not cooperating. "Ulquiorra-san, please give them back - Where are you going?!"

They were walking fast away from Syazel's office, and up the front of the office which had the pantry, and the double doors that lead to the lifts. She saw him already starting to open one of her notes and glance at the first page as he walked briskly. Was he going to bring her somewhere to discuss something? The pantry?... to... oh no... discuss her work? Her notebooks? Something he shouldn't be holding, much less looking, in the first place. She saw him flip the page after mere seconds. Dear gods, she hoped he wasn't reading as fast as the way he looked at his monitors. She prayed he was not going to review her work, too, just like he did with Grimmjow's. She gulped. She tried again to call out before he could turn another page. He walked surprisingly fast. "Ulquiorra-san, please stop looking at my notes. Please stop-!"

He halted when they reached the lifts, and pressed the lift button. She finally stopped beside him, cursing her heels today. She had to run just to keep up with him. Orihime glanced up and felt a bit of panic as she saw him still holding her work, his fingers about to turn another page. She had some awkward notes written about him in one of those notebooks. She couldn't tell which team lead's notebooks he had opened right now, but she hoped it wasn't his.

She was not about to snatch her notes away from him. She still couldn't tell how he reacted to people who suddenly made moves towards him. He was a rational man, he should still be able listen to reason. She finally forced herself to stand, and solidly pointed at the notebook he had in his hands. She evened out her words slowly, but firmly. "Please give those back... I didn't give you permission to read through them. Those are my things."

No answer. He didn't give them back, but he did close the notebook as the lift doors opened.

He proceeded to enter the lift, and she entered along with him, wanting to make sure he didn't open her notes again. The doors closed. After a few seconds, long slender hands swiped a card against the lift panels. Realization hit her. We're going to his floor? She didn't bring her jacket with her. She's not going to let herself freeze to death down there!

"Ulquiorra-san -" before she could even start to convincing the man to let her downstairs to get her Cuatro attire, they had already arrived. What greeted her was a sight that was a clear indication of an even bigger problem than him reading her notebooks. Her worry of theft and being outed with his notion of second rate work paling in comparison to the growing implications of what she saw before her.

Yammy was in the floor. He was assembling an large, netted office chair. And she saw a new table, just right across Ulquiorra's.

"You're working here now," Ulquiorra stated, walking into his sanctuary quickly, and dumping her notebooks to the new table. "Yammy, move the table away back a bit more," he ordered, pointing to a location ten feet away from his table.

"But, but… Syazel is upstairs!" she frantically stated, starting to realize what the scene in front of her all implied.

"You can communicate him with emails. And there is a phone there," He looked at her sternly. "Besides, I doubt he gives you anything to work with. He is preoccupied with his research experiments. You've made it this far in two weeks without his supervision, I do not see why you require his presence at all."

She tried to make an excuse to convince him. "But... but... what if Aizen needs to send him something?"

"Aizen-sama will tell me, and I will tell you. Or he will merely tell you directly. You do not need anything else."

He was now insinuating that he was going to be her supervisor. There must be some mistake. She had to get out of here, right now. With her notebooks. Particularly the one about him. She wasn't ready for this, or to even talk to him yet, much less work near him or work _with_ him. Him supervising her was out of the question.

"I need my jacket!" she insisted.

"Yammy will get it for you," he calmly responded to her query, and nodded to the large man, which left as soon as he heard his name.

"But I need to get some other things-" she tried again, making an attempt to follow the large Yammy to the lifts.

She jumped as she felt him grab her wrist, and stopped her on her tracks. He was looking very irritated.

"You will stay here _now_." The tone had a finality to it. No arguing, it said.

An order, a fact. Again. The whites of her eyes were in half indignation. Commanding again? But this time she was ready for him - facts. But they were only points of view. _His_ point of view. They were not absolute truths.

Syazel hasn't really talked to her since the third day on the job, but it did provide a sense of security to know that she was underneath someone in the organization, even if that person was not very nice, and constantly criticized and belittled her. This current setup with Ulquiorra... well, it was like living in an island ... with him as a reclusive neighbor who thought he owned said island. An obsessive compulsive landowner. He was _not_ neighbor material.

"But I-" She tugged her wrists. He has held it so often, she was not taken aback by this anymore. She merely wanted to get out of his grasp.

He immediately let go at her second tug. "_Enough_. You're to be working here from now onwards."

This whole situation irked her. First she met Starrk during her interviews, and thought he was going to be her manager. Then it became Syazel, when she entered the office on her first day. After a few days, Gin started to constantly visit her, and tried to get her to defect. He was practically managing her, even to the very last second of the team building. Then yesterday, Aizen finally told her he was ultimately the one who decided to hire her, not anyone else. And now Ulquiorra? All in a span of just two weeks. She was getting confused with all the management changes. This is insane. Only two weeks, and she's been passed from one person to the next without her agreeing to anything.

"What is going on? Am I to be under you now?" she asked, trying to understand the situation.

"Do not be ridiculous. I am not planning to supervise you like a child, let alone supervise you at all. You are merely staying here," he tonelessly replied.

She calmed a bit hearing he wasn't going to review her work. She glanced around at the gloomy floor, empty except for the Cuatro's presence. Not her favorite place by a long shot, but she had a suspicion this was one of Aizen's arrangements to get his request done. Regardless, she still needed to see the others, and she did not intend to spend all of her days here. She was already planning ahead, to go up to the other floors on occasion, when he added, like an afterthought, "Woman, you are to stay here without question. I will be working on a project that requires my time here for the next six months, and I will be here in this office for the duration with you."

"Why? I don't understand. You're not supervising me, and yet I'm moving here. I was perfectly fine at Syazel's floor!"

"Aizen-sama decided to put you in my care before those fools Nnoitra or Grimmjow suddenly drag you into one of their brawls by accident. You are not to leave this floor unless you leave the office by the end of the day," he expounded calmly. He walked over to his table and shuffled some papers on his desk, completely ignoring her and her other comments. It looked like his papers were far more important than her inhumanitarian predicament right now.

"Wait, that can't be right. My work requires that I talk to them occasionally. Are you sure that is what Aizen said?" She inquired suspiciously. She doubted Aizen meant to lock her up with the Cuatro for all time, even if he wanted her to pay closer attention to Ulquiorra. Being locked up wasn't reasonable, and if she had her opinion, she would have ventured to guess this wasn't the verbatim instructions. She thought that those instructions were somewhat more like an interpretation from the man in front of her, than the boss' actual instructions.

"Don't fuss," he ordered sternly, but still looking through the papers on his table, going as quickly as he did with her notes. He didn't even grant her a look when talking.

"Don't you 'don't fuss' me," she countered, her boldness being fanned by her encouraging conversation with the boss, Aizen, just yesterday. She charged with her thoughts. "Since you're not my supervisor, so you can't tell me what I can and cannot do, and I need to meet with the others."

"Woman," he looked up from the papers he was scanning, and suddenly pronounced scathingly, "I am doing you a favor by letting you stay here and keeping an eye on you. I do not have time to bait around and follow you wherever you are, just to keep your security in check. I do not like you being here, but I was ordered to look after you, and these are the arrangements. Either you follow them, or you get out now and be fired."

"You can't do that!"

"Yes, I can. Do you think Aizen-sama will tolerate if the department gets into a bad publicity? He keeps you running lose like a headless chicken, and then finally bring this company's reputation to ruins by getting yourself into an incident? We are all clearly aware of our reputation outside, and it will not help matters if someone else was injured. Aizen-sama is merely protecting our interests, and he specifically ordered to ensure that nothing untowards happen to you."

"So you're the security?"

"Yes," he looked at her with his blank face, his brows furrowed.

She furiously tried to counter his argument with bull-headedness. "But I don't need security inside the office."

"Unless you are mentally insane, I have it in good fact that you are aware most of the people here are erratically violent and have proven criminal records."

"Aren't you one?" she pointed. Let him answer _that_.

"I have never been convicted. I am not erratic. Do I look erratic to you?" He answered blankly at her.

She eyed him suspiciously. That was true... he wasn't convicted of anything. But his arrest records were so long, they could've added themselves up to at least one conviction already. She couldn't figure out how anyone could've gotten such a long sheet, and yet was conviction free. But he was. He clearly knew, and thought highly about this enough to point it out to her.

"And you're saying you're capable of following through with your orders when a push comes to a shove?" she replied in disbelief. How can someone have no convicted records, and yet would be so confident in handling incidents with ex-military and convicted felons previously charged with several assaults?

"Yes." As simple and as serious, as plain as daylight.

She was tempted to bring up what she's known of his own history, but decided that it was something for another day. At this point she wasn't sure how his skills werer noteworthy relative to the others, but if Aizen chose Ulquiorra, it may not merely be an excuse to get her chances with him together. There was no way Ulquiorra would be bought in by a patronizing half reason from Aizen, he was too factual for that. The Cuatro espada was clearly aware of what he was capable of. And the admission that he was security against "everything" gave her some food for thought to explore later. The implications of this caused her a bit of uneasiness, but not enough to stop her from responding back at his words.

"I am well aware, of course. I've been staring at the same files for the past two weeks, while I was comfortably seated within distance from Syazel's office. Did you think I didn't note all that down when I started talking to Grimmjow and Nnoitra?"

"You obviously don't understand enough if you've been talking to those idiots. When I said you will be staying here, I didn't mean it as a negotiation. You are to stay here. If you need to go somewhere, you schedule it and inform me ahead of time." He turned his attention back to the papers on his desk.

"I can leave as long as I have it scheduled?" she asked, surprised. She thought it was going to be a prison, after all. She could schedule something with him. But her initial presumptions were shot down with his next words.

"No, I will arrange to accompany you, or get whoever you need to come over to where we're at."

She could not imagine Grimmjow walking into this floor, or even putting up with Ulquiorra hovering about. No one wanted to be anywhere around him. How in the world will that arrangement help?

"WHAT? That I'm at your mercy?"

"That I'm responsible for your security," he corrected, "I intend to follow through with Aizen-sama's orders."

She had noticed her words becoming more and more agitated, but it was quite a strange position she was in. The man in front of her made his answers seem so rational and commonplace, but he was actually bordering on imprisonment. And yet he kept studying the papers in his hands calmly, as if her concerns didn't matter to him. Doesn't he understand the situation he's placing her in? She was getting irritated at each time he shuffled another page away, refusing to turn his attention towards her and see her side of the story. It was difficult to not speak out of spite.

"You mean you decided to be a babysitter? I doubt Aizen intended you to be like that. I can take care of myself."

"Hardly, but your opinion is a matter of no consequence."

"You mean, by being constantly around me, you'll be becoming a personified version of a human repellant, right? No one seems to want to be anywhere near you…" Then in hind thought, she added, "… at all. Why is that?"

He ignored her and continued to do go through the papers in his hands, almost half way through what looked like a fifty page pile in a span of mere minutes. She could spot gene sequences from where she stood.

A bunch of characters held more interest than a living, breathing human being beside him? She was quickly becoming irritated at the way he kept ignoring her questions and concerns as if they weren't important. It didn't help that his glazed eyes looked past her all the time. She didn't like the way he talked to her as a secondary _something_, second only to the paper had in his hands. She lashed out with a retort.

"How is that supposed to help me with my work? I'm in human resources, unless you suddenly decided that you're the only resource worth considering."

He finally had it. She finally saw him look back at her, ripping his eyes away from what he was doing. "Woman, you seem to have developed a mouth. Would you like me to erase its existence?"

Again, the man stepped threatening towards her. All thoughts returned to last weekend when the same man threatened her. She wasn't ready for this, not yet, and decided that this is a situation to leave the fight for another day and retreat. Regardless of the situation, she was not going to chance getting into that situation again. She quickly stepped back this time.

"FINE." She threw her hands in defeat. "So you're a team lead, the team member, and now you're also acting security. Is there anything you don't do? Do you by any chance also sing and dance during Christmas parties?"

He ignored her as he handled a bag from his desk and took out a laptop, handing it to her.

"I'm mobile, so you're required to come with me when I step out. To avoid disrupting your work, I've gotten approval for that. I'll ghost your old hard drive and update the contents later in the afternoon. In any case, you'll need that."

Now she needed to follow him like a pet? She started to ask what kind of mobility he required, when he raised his hands to stop her.

"Don't argue. Everything has been discussed with Aizen-sama. You have your desk, you have your chair. Work." And with that, he went towards his desk and concluded their conversation with unceremonious grace.

A bit disgruntled, she looked about with a bit of a consternation. Everyone decided without even referring to her. And now she had to put up with Ulquiorra. She glanced at her new table. At least she had her notebooks back. She'll have to make sure to have those under lock and key.

She looked on as Yammy returned with her jacket, and proceeded to prepare her table across the Cuatro's. This is going to be a long day.

BUT.

There's a loophole, and she's dead set on exploiting on it, just to escape the confines of this cold, freezing ice block. All she had to do was come to this floor late, and leave early. Piece of cake.

* * *

The plan worked for two full days, until Ulquiorra discovered.

How he found out, she didn't know. On the third day, he showed up in the boulangerie, and started picking her up straight from there at exactly nine. He walked her out of the office at the end of each day. He also made it a point to take her office access card with him, so she couldn't come back to the office after he's lead her out of the building, just in case she decided she wanted to make a quick trip back to the office.

She started hating him right then and there. Even her brother never kept her in the house when she had done something wrong as a child. The most was only a firm scolding. It was all she ever needed. She learned fast when a mistake was made. But Ulquiorra was highly unreasonable. For someone who seemed to give an impression of valuing facts, he certainly couldn't get past his idea of what a reasonable reason is. She sighed as she returned to the front of the boulangerie with a full basket of baguettes under her arms, where elderly baker waited for her over the counter.

"Orihime-chan, who is that impeccably dressed young man that comes over for you for the past two days? Is he an admirer?"

She turned around and followed his fingers, to see Ulquiorra standing right outside the entrance, casually drinking from a bottle of water, looking as if he owned the whole place. Her face soured at the sight.

"No ojii-san, he is just a friend I work with," she answered politely. Well, that was stretching the definition of the word quite a bit. She tried to smile brightly to elderly boulangerie owner. There was no point in getting him all worried.

She has not had a single interaction since moving into the Ulquiorra's floor, and there was no way going around the man. He took the order seriously, and she suspected was probably watching her like a hawk lest she pull out something else out of her sleeve again. Not that she had any more tricks in her bag. The Cuatro's floor was depressingly sunless, cold, silent and disturbingly eerie with the constant hum coming from all the company's servers housed in the floor. She was a sunshine child, and being imprisoned there was akin to living in a mental institution – if she was not crazy now, she will be, very soon. At least some mental patients probably get walks in the yard – she, on the other hand, felt like being imprisoned in what movies term as a prison hole – where you are stuck in a small space with no sunlight and enclosed in perpetual darkness for days, weeks, and months on end. It was a punishment. And today was Friday. It was only the fifth day. How was she going to survive six months with him?

Her attempts to lighten the mood in the office were met with silence. When she tried to walk and stretched her legs, the resounding echoes that resounded in the cold, marble floor reverberated so loud, she had to stop in embarrassment for disrupting the humming, grating silence. After she did, the silence filled the earlier void, and then she's back to where she started.

It was terrible. It was horrible.

She wanted to visit Grimmjow. He was the only normal person in the office who spared her the time. Quite a turn, since he was the first one she decided to check out, when she decided to visit the team leads. He wasn't all that incapable at all... in fact, she had to admit he was smart under that goonish exterior. But she didn't want to get Grimmjow into trouble, or ask him for his help. Not yet, anyway, at least not until she's tried every trick in the book she could do herself.

She took off her apron and dusted her lap to get rid of the flour that had attached to her. Before going to the back for a quick change of office clothes, she stole another glance at the front of the shop to check if the dark haired man was still there. She was not disappointed. She sighed.

* * *

"Okay, I'm ready."

She saw Ulquiorra glance at her. By now she had decidedly ignored the man's eyes on her. She was understandably angry, but didn't want to waste any more time getting into any sort of staring contest with him – his signature style - those were just a waste of time when you're walking beside a mute mannequin.

"Come."

She rolled her eyes. That wasn't necessary either. He made her feel like a retinue for royalty.

They walked in silence for the next ten minutes. Anyone would actually think they didn't know each other. She was staying as far from Ulquiorra as possible, and for once, his opinions probably agreed with her - she noticed he was also staying away.

Everything was quiet, at least, until they reached the office building.

"Princess!"

She turned around to see Grimmjow catching up to them at the front entrance. "Haven't seen you for days already, where have you been?" Grimmjow came up and tugged one of the locks of her auburn hair. She giggled. For some strange reason Grimmjow liked to do that. She let him do it because he had a strange, funny look entirely out of place from his feral nature. In retrospect, sometimes she often wondered if Gin was right in calling him domestic cat names... under the exterior, he wasn't all that bad. She wouldn't classify him as a softy, but he was close to it, in a twisted, animalistic sort of way.

Then he saw Ulquiorra close in beside her. Before she could respond, Ulquiorra replied.

"The woman is with me."

"Aren't you the possessive one," Grimmjow replied sarcastically, "I was just saying hi to the princess here, last time I checked, I could still do that, Cuatro."

Ulquiorra cocked his head but didn't respond.

"Did he just hide you away in his floor?" He asked her. When she returned a helpless and relieved face, she knew he understood what a predicament she was in.

The blue haired man faced his colleague, "Cuatro, I don't think fucking standing orders referred to keeping her by yourself. She has work with everyone. You can't keep her by yourself."

"And you can?"

"Hey, I like her, she's not bad company," Grimmjow grinned, "I'd say different from yours, since you've been standing as far away from her as possible until now. Why bother?"

Ulquiorra merely stared at him.

"Not fuckin' chatty today huh? No designs to dissect and rip to shreds? Got any fancy orders from Aizen lately?"

"No."

"Are you sure you want to keep her in your office so long? She might just fuckin' decide to contaminate your water supply and leave you for dead, you know."

Ulquiorra didn't respond.

"Seriously Cuatro, You're going to find yourself dead one day. I wouldn't be cryin' shit over it, that's for sure."

"I would say you should keep yourself as far away from her as possible, Sexta."

"Oh geez, we're repeating ourselves here now. Don't you hell have anything else to say? You're a fucking recorder. Balls of shit boring. Do you want me to actually spell it out for you?" he grinned at her. "She's not yours, Cuatro."

"And she is yours?"

"Hey, I barely talk to her now. "

"Then you should keep it that way."

"Goddammit, you're a thick-headed ass when your head wraps around something, don't you?" He glanced at her. "Princess, how the hell can you stand this guy?"

She smiled sheepishly. "Uhm..."

"You can't stand him either, can you?"

"Enough. I've been assigned to one, not two people, Sexta. You do not count, even if you want to join this little group of ours. If you have problems, you can take it up with Aizen-sama."

"Fucking _Aizen-sama_. That's all you ever say now, Ulquiorra. You make me sick. You're a whore-dog," Grimmjow growled.

Without warning, Ulquoirra suddenly brought out his hands, his fingers straight, directly at Grimmjow's chest, as if planning to push them through the Sexta. Before it landed, the blue haired man matched his speed and raised his own fingers, firmly catching the Cuatro's wrists mid-thrust, at the same time, quickly stepping away from Ulquiorra's trajectory.

Grimmjow warned with lethal quietness, his face suddenly far serious than anything she's seen on him.

"Don't think you can pull that same shit on me twice, _Cifer_."

She felt the tension suddenly notched up several degrees. She glanced at the both of them. They were in the middle of the office entrance, and people were milling about and several people curiously looking at them. It was obvious that something was going on. Ulquiorra's eyes were harder than she's ever seen them, much more than with her, staring straight at Grimmjow. They looked at each other for several seconds.

"Get your act together," Grimmjow growled quietly, his voice strained, then roughly releasing his grip and throwing Ulquiorra's wrists away from him.

"Grimmjow, are you alright?" she asked.

"We are leaving," Ulquiorra's flat voice ordered.

"But-"

Ulquiorra held on to her and dragged her away from her friend. She glanced back as she was lead away by her captor, worried about Grimmjow instead, and how he acted. Before she was completely out of earshot, she saw him flex the fingers he used to stop Ulquiorra, while he walked towards another lift, his head down, muttering.

"The man's cold as ice... Goddamned buttons. Need to find out where the goddamnned buttons are."

* * *

The ambiance became as low as it could possibly be as they quietly filed back to the floor. She liked having Grimmjow around, but not like that. She glanced at the Cuatro who was already seated. Animosity do not happen suddenly, and she suddenly felt those two pour into a huge amount into a large vat just a while ago. How much did she know about them anyway? Those things don't build up in a few days. Nor weeks. Or months. It had to be years. Her lips thinned as she eyed the man in front of her. She avoided his eyes before, but she wasn't worried about them too much anymore. She was practically desensitized to them after last weekend. Her eyes travelled to the two short lines below the green irises. Where did he get those scars? How long ago? Why? Years ago? Like Grimmjow?

She grabbed her pen, thinking of writing them down, and stopped. No way to find out right now. She could hardly ask Ulquiorra about them. Something told her he was not going to be kindly if she did. She changed her mind to do another task instead.

Progress reports. She had a lot of compiling to do. She needed to finish last week's team building progress reports for Aizen. Reading black and white reports did not make it easy for her, she would rather be talking to these people than look at files filled with historical backgrounds. She tapped her pen, and got a sharp look from her floormate. Now that she had to do a write up for the boss, she was clearly reminded of their agreement last weekend. She peeked at Ulquiorra. She has to do it - him - sooner or later. She managed it with Gin, remembering how she managed to figure out how to deal with the silver haired CFO. Why couldn't she manage it with Ulquiorra? She just needed to step back a bit. All her animosity towards him... they just built up. She needed to bring them all down before she can start with him. But she knew why the others hated him. He was always so... "reasonable", even when in reality it was unreasonable.

A sound broke the humming silence. She turned when she heard the lift doors open.

"ellooo lil' missy!"

The other occupant of the floor looked up. Ulquiorra stared.

"Gin. What are you doing here?"

"Am jus visitin' lil' missy here. Ya got a problem?"

He kept silent for a moment and eyed the CFO. "No. As long as you don't interrupt me."

She stared. Was Ulquiorra actually letting Gin stay here? The CFO was idly walking towards her, he was wearing a black trenchcoat. She noticed a bump in both his pockets.

"Ya like the view here, Missy?" he smiled his trademark mischievous smile.

She looked at him suspiciously. He was well aware there was no windows in this floor. It was freezing cold, and the only other occupant never talked. In fact, he pointed this fact out to her last weekend. Was he planning on something today? Gin never showed up except to aggravate people. There were only two people in this floor. It was either her, or Ulquiorra. She eyed the bumps on his pockets suspiciously again.

"Nice reception 'ere... are ya angry at me, missy?"

"No," she answered the CFO as politely as she could.

"I thought so too. An' one word answers? Ya seem ta be pickin' up bad habits after staying 'ere fo' a few days. Ya suppose ta brighten da mood up, not add ta it," he smiled, "But... dat could be good fo' yer floormate."

He turned his head towards the other man in the room. "How'd you find the new company, Ulquiorra?"

Ulquiorra didn't answer.

Gin pulled Orihime out of her seat and pushed her towards the man in front of her, five feet away. "What are you doing-?"

"Jus' an experiment," he smiled. The intention was probably to reassure. But it didn't reassure one bit. In fact it was the opposite.

"Ulquiorra."

The green eyed man turned his head.

"How many heads does missy have?"

"None."

She sighed at the insensitive remark. She's used to this by now. There was no point in getting angry over this.

Gin snickered, but kept smiling. He brought out a can from his pockets and a red solo cup, and turned her around back to her table. She was sure she was being played on, but had no idea how. There was no way Gin came all this way to a floor devoid of people to target his pranks on, ask a few questions, and then just leave. She looked at the can suspiciously.

"'ere, I brought a' sumthin ta celebrate yer new permanent job. It's a Friday, everyone in Arrancar calls it beer day. Since ya can't come up ta us an' have sum fun, I'm bringin' da party down here." He had a can of beer in his hands, and waving at her.

She eyed the can in his hands warily. Was Gin going to have her drink something nasty? It's either her, or Ulquiorra, and Gin was nowhere near Ulquiorra right now. Besides, Gin stood nearer to her table.

He nudged the can at her. Seeing her indecision, he opened it for her with a sharp sound, and slowly poured the fizzing, frothing contents to the cup. "See, its always nice 'ere, really cool. Keeps all the beverages cold longer, even wit'out ice."

"Gin..." she heard Ulquiorra voice from ten feet away.

The silver haired man took Ulquiorra in, and smiled even wider. "Ya dun mind, do ya? I won't bother ya fro' 'ere. Me an' missy jus want ta have a lil' party of our won an' some fun conversation." He started to gulp down the remaining contents straight from the can.

Ulquoirra ignored the man and turned back to continue his work.

Gin whispered conspiratorially. "Missy, I still need a few more pictures. Ya don't mind helpin me, do ya?"

He came here to take pictures? "Now?" she asked, a little incredulous.

"No... but ya wouldn't mind helpin' right?"

She glanced at Ulquiorra. "I suppose not..."

"Good girl, ya really have a bright future wit me." He patted the top of her head.

"Gin-san..." she warned quietly, trying to remind him gently she wasn't interested, without causing too much break in the floor's silence. Her only neighbor didn't seem to appreciate extra sounds.

She jumped when she heard the neighbor comment. "Will you two stop your incessant noise?" How had he heard? She was trying to be as quiet as possible. Both of them looked at the man on the other table.

"Be finished soon, Cuatro. Don't put your panties in a bunch." He smiled, and glanced back to her. "Alright... I'll talk to ya when I get an idea. Just wanted to drop by and keep my favorite subordinate company." Gin picked himself up and stood beside her, giving a quick glance to the man on the other table. Then he stretched himself.

She stared at him. He was leaving? That's it?

"Enjoy your day, missy." Gin smiled, looking more satisfied than she's ever seen since meeting him.

She was now befuddled as the silver haired CFO left the floor. What had Gin been up to? Nothing happened. She stared at the man across her. At least Gin came up to the fourth floor. She doubted the others would be coming up here anytime soon. Strangely enough, she really missed Grimmjow. She was really happy to see him this morning, even if it was just a few minutes. It would've been much better if she had a bit more time to spend with him. He was the only sane person in the whole bunch. The first three team leads were too busy, and she didn't like Nnoitra after last weekend's team building. Grimmjow was the closest thing she had for a friend, and with the way he constantly defended her, she didn't doubt he treated her as one, too. She sat contemplating about the way her colleague has treated him.

She spoke up. "That was quite unfair, Ulquiorra-san. You had no right to cut off my conversation with Grimmjow. Grimmjow is a friend."

The silence continued. Then without moving his eyes from the monitor, he suddenly responded.

"Studying his historical background and analyzing him is not being a friend. This is work."

"Maybe for you. Maybe for some people. But I don't work that way. No one can understand another if they don't open themselves up."

"You psychologists think that, but it's just a delusion you form to manipulate the people you look after in your control."

Surprised at his unexpected response and cold comment, she gave him a glance. He was still looking ahead toward his monitors.

"I'm not one at the moment."

"Not yet, at least not officially."

"People like me just care. I treat Grimmjow the same way as I treat my friends. I said he is a friend, and I mean that."

"Its no secret what you are, woman. You were hired for your credentials, and if that was not the case, then what were you hired for? To become friends with us?"

"If you put it like that, it sounds undeniably cold."

"Under that exterior, that's what you are."

She was quite nonplussed by the way he was pushing his idea of her, onto her. She was not any of those things. She was never those things. She never will be.

"What have you got against psychologists anyway?"

"I do not have anything against that medical discipline. I am merely stating facts."

"You sound like you do."

"I just have it in mind that people who work in a certain field have certain traits. They become ingrained and they become what their function dictates them to be. A steward will be abnormally polite, even in front of their friends, because that's what they do day in, they out. You will be hard pressed to find someone who acts in an impolite manner, unless they are brought to the brink. All of these are natural masks people wear."

"So what?"

"Psychologists have to be perpetually listening to their patients. These require a certain feigned openness and discretion to pull their patients into their trust. That's what you're doing. Their masks stay on, people keep them on, no matter."

"Oh, any you don't have one?"

"I say what I think, nothing more, nothing less. It is a useless endeavor to pretend. I do not need to feign anything."

"I don't feign anything either."

"As you say."

What is with this man? She normally does not get into arguments with people, but for the most case, Ulquiorra has at least driven her to interrogate him with his thoughts. She's never felt so frustrated with a person in all her life, even when people bullied her, she was always positive and kept a mind to consider the good side of things. But this….

A window suddenly popped up in her screen.

_Princess, are you still stuck with that asshole? /Grimmjow_

Trust Grimmjow to continue to include his verbal repertoire even in text. She wasn't sure how he sent the message so she just helplessly stared back at the pop up window, and then after a few seconds, closed it.

After five minutes, another window popped up.

_Open up the command prompt and you can send messages. Type in "net send sexta-panthera your message here" /G_

She opened up her command line and typed in:

net send sexta-panthera like this?

Another window popped up.

_Yes. That's exactly right, missy. /G_

She smiled. This is fun.

_So are you still stuck with the asshole?_

By this insinuation, she guessed that he meant the man with her.

_Yes… stuck isn't the word I'd use, but it'll do. It's so quiet here!_

After a second, another window popped up.

_Get used to it. I almost went crazy when I was there the last time. Is he ignoring you?_

She giggled. _Yes._

_Typical. If you're bored, watch him. He crunches his fingers more or less every seventeen minutes. I was so bored I started timing everything he does. It's like a freaking clockwork. He's a robotic maniac._

She looked at the time and took note.

_I'm not sure how long I will survive like this. Either I make a schedule with him to go downstairs to see everyone, or I sit here :(_

_Can't you go back here after you leave the office?_

_No, he's always taking my access card the time I leave._ :(

She forcefully hit the enter key thinking about it.

In less than five seconds another window popped up. _THE CONTROL FREAK!_

Then another window popped up.

_I got a few things up my sleeve to get around the freak. Wanna hear?_

Her eyes lighted up. Thank you Grimmjow!

_YES. PLEASE._

_It'll be a bit complicated. Lets meet outside office hours, tell you about it. You ok later today?_

Out of office? She didn't mind, really. If she can't talk to people during office hours, she can surely meet them up after work.

_Yes._

After a minute, Grimmjow's response popped up.

_Meet at Benihime across. Seven PM. You know where it is?_

Perfect. She knew the owner of the bar, as her gang used to hang out there.

Yes. OK.

_Has he crunched it yet?_

Right on cue, she heard a faint crunch. She smiled.

_Yes :D_

* * *

For the rest of the day, Orihime was in better spirits.

She decided that since today was a triumph of sorts for circumventing her babysitter, she'd celebrate her impending freedom early on. When the clock hit five in the afternoon, her desk was cleaned and shelved, and ready to leave.

She noticed that she was feeling less antagonistic towards her dark haired colleague, which she thought was in a better direction. She'd barely thought about the task Aizen has assigned to her since moving into the fortieth floor, her own thoughts more towards the resentment that ensued of being caged than anything else, and it was time to decide how to move into the right direction with Ulquiorra. It was no way for her to act like a child… but he made it seem so easy to get into a raging banter with him. She never got into arguments with anyone, ever. But this afternoon's chat with Grimmjow had a brightening effect on her, and she was not about to spoil the mood by thinking of Ulquiorra. She needed a time to cool off and enjoy the flowers, so to speak, before wrestling this bull by the horns.

She decided that it was still hours from seven, so she'd take a stroll around the mall and do a little window shopping at the shopping district. It was near Benihime's anyway, and after moving into the server floor, her attire was clearly lacking in the winterwear department. Plus other goodies.

She stood up and walked over to the Cuatro's table. He was concentrating on the monitors at the moment, and have this undiminishing glazed look about him. He looked so serious all the time. It was hard to avoid disrupting him at all, if he looks like that all the time. His brows were never furrowed in concentration when he's looking at the monitors, she suddenly thought. It was only when he is with people that those eyes take on a concentrated and slight furrowed angle. She wondered why.

"Ahem. Ulquiorra-san, I'm heading off on time today - " He glanced at her and his brows got into that furrowed look she was expecting now. Then he started to get up from his seat.

"No, no, its ok," she hurriedly responded, forgetting herself and unconsciously touched his left shoulder lightly to reiterate her intention for him to keep to his seat. She smiled at him. "Here, I'll leave my access card with you, alright? You don't have to see me out, you can continue doing what you're doing. I'll take off myself is fine, don't worry. I'll see you tomorrow."

She suddenly noticed that his eyes were momentarily on her before it started to furrow with that glazed look again. How odd, she thought. After a moment's pause, she then realized that he was again staring at her.

"Out of the question."

She stopped. His response was baffling - it made no sense. "Look, I can walk myself out. There's no way I can go back up once I leave your office, I've already left my access card with you," she pointed.

For once, he sat there silently and said nothing. She waited for a few more seconds for him to see if he had anything to say, and when she was met with continued silence and staring, she decided he probably had nothing more to say.

"Alright then, like I said, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" she repeated.

Suddenly, she saw him close his lids slowly, and reopen them again. In that moment when his lids closed, he looked almost regretful, which coming from this colleague, was almost like the universe stopping to allow a wayward, oblivious sheep to pass a perilous highway in the middle of rush hour. He looked almost regretful, and in the opening of his lids afterwards, his eyes looked suspiciously… normal. Not normal, as in the usual Ulquiorra normal, but normal, like everyone else's. But that was impossible. The man in front of her was anything but normal, especially with those glazed green eyes of his. He was always staring in concentration. Suddenly streaked with curiosity, she squinted to see if it was the lights in the cold room playing tricks on her.

She was still squinting when the lift doors opened with its usual ringing sound.

"If you do not leave this instant, I WILL walk you down."

Well, that snapped her back to earth. His eyes were back to their usual furrowed self, and she was not going to let Ulquiorra the satisfaction of having the last say.

"I'm going," she smiled. "See you tomorrow then!" and hopped to the lift doors to eventual freedom.

* * *

When she stepped out of the building, Orihime quickly changed her mind about her plans. It was because she wanted to meet the sun when it slid down. These days, she's barely had the chance to see the sun set. Most of the times, she was behind the bakery preparing all the pastries when the sun came up, and she left late when it was already stark black. It didn't help that the fourth floor didn't have any windows. It would have been nice to see the sun setting while she worked late – she loved the colors of dusk and dawn, as if the world was an entirely different place when everything was wrapped in a shade of deep oranges. Sometimes when the weather permitted, it became an angry shade of red, and even sometimes, during special times, a beautiful deep reddish violet hue. Those were her favorites. Those shades usually happen when it rained just at the right time, before sunset or sunrise, and the clouds halfway clearing up, but not entirely. During those times, she'd imagine she was living in a different world, where her brother and her were still young and together. It was her brother who told her when the air became a violet hue– they'd sit together outside their house and enjoy the colors of the sun set.

Today was an orange day, light and fluffy. She could tell by the way the sky presented itself in the afternoon sun. She imagined that it would have covered the cobblestones of the shopping district like a warm and cozy blanket. She changed her mind at the last minute and scrapped the shopping idea; instead, she passed by the small farmer's market and picked up some seasonal fruits and strawberries and a pack of yogurt, went back to Yamazaki help out with closing the shop, and made herself her smoothie. Then she packed the drink and headed towards the lake in the middle of the park.

There were benches scattered, and occasionally she would sit on those, but she went a little further ahead where she knew there were a quiet copse of trees that gave a good view of both sunset and the lake; all she needed to do was to climb it, and hang her legs and enjoy the world wrapped in a magical glow. It wasn't hard to climb that particular tree; in fact, she was ashamed to say that it was the only form of vandalism that she had resorted to in her whole life. She made small ridge cuts before on the outer bark so that climbing was easier to get to the top, back when she was still in junior school. She took off her shoes and carefully climbed barefoot to the sturdy hanging branch near top, and settled herself on the thick branch. On occasion she would sneak out during mornings and take a break from the bakery; it was part of the reason why she loved working there. She smelled like freshly baked bread, and with the sun welcoming her with another day. The sun never stopped coming up; and in effect, it reminded her that she should always be ready for a new day.

She slowly drank her smoothie and looked on while the sunset covered the land in a fiery orange hue. Then, as always, the orange started receding, gradually taken over by the blacks of nighttime.

She sat for a little while more; she always did so these days until the color of midnight black of the sky complemented her shadowed eyes. It was perfectly simple reason, why she stayed a little longer, a single, solitary reason to stay, long after the sun's rays have waved its goodbyes.

* * *

**AN:** Sooner or later, something like this is bound to happen to the both of them. I blame Tite Kubo for thinking of this wonderful idea first. Now the rest of us fan fiction writers can't help but use an already good idea. I suppose this really is the best form of flattery, rofl.

Poor Orihime is now stuck with Ulquiorra, but I liked it that she had a little backbone and stood up to him. Luckily, Orihime can escape the prison at the end of each day... and then get herself stuck in another one of her own doing. The poor girl isn't really having the best of weeks.

This week was a prison theme, so I took in to make sure the pacing was similar to a prison's. Not sure if that worked, though. I tried to revise it as much as I could, so the story will be tight. Anyway, there's nothing to do in a prison. Have you been in one (I hope not) time passes more slowly in it. What's there to do except to think? :P

*** My dear readers, if you are completely seeing our favorite male lead like how Orihime sees him, then I will tell you straight-out: you haven't noticed Ulquiorra up til this point. This fanfic is now swerving slightly to a strange mystery-angst-romance genre. *grin* I strongly suggest you pay attention to Ulquiorra, even during something as straightforward as his POVs. Because he is probably going to blast all of you, as well as Orihime, out of your seats, if you don't. And I don't want that to happen (ok, maybe to Orihime.) All I will say is, I've dropped enough hints from the very start of this fanfic to indicate that he's acting strangely, and yet also out of his usual norm. Whole sections and paragraphs before this is littered with them in plain sight. If you haven't caught on something strange with him in the early chapters, then you will be, before the year is out. I meant it in the summary when I said, a one in a million statistic. Not one of a kind, but he is what he is - very rare. Is it a flowers, butterflies and bees kind of rare? It depends how you see him now.

**Next:** Orihime, Grimmjow meets at Benihime, with the people you'd likely expect there... and probably one or two that you don't expect. Something humorously out of Grimmjow's expectations, happens.

As usual, feel free to leave a review or PM me your thoughts!


	10. 09 The Argentinian Specials

**AN:** Something I would have always wanted to happen to Orihime. Keep sharp, everyone!

Also, apologize for the delay, I've been having a lousy week and have been getting terrible migraines. My eyes feel like they are just about to pop out of their sockets. I had problems opening them, and when I do, and try to even manage to look at the tv, monitor, phone or mirror, I feel like throwing up. This chapter is the original draft I had from the start, and I apologize if there are some editing problems...I had a quick run through and felt that it was still acceptable, so I just decided to publish it and not delay any longer. Now, excuse me while I sign off a bit... even writing this one paragraph is making me feel terribly sick.

**Disclaimer: Bleach and its characters are owned by Tite Kubo.************All other entities and intellectual properties mentioned herein are proprietary to their respective owners - Weihenstephaner by Bavarian State Brewery, Nine Series by Bavarian Motor Works. ******************** I admit they are not mine.** Otherwise, the idea of this story belongs to the author - me**********. **  


**Shades Of Gray**

**Chapter 09: The Argentinian Specials  
**

* * *

"_Gluttony is not a secret vice."_

_- Orson Welles, American Writer _

* * *

"Urahara san!"

"Orihime, long time no see!"

Orihime waved at the ubiquitous blonde owner of the bar-slash-resto behind the counter, and approached the bar. Benihime Bar had a wide stock of alcoholic beverages to rival high class hotels in the area, if not more. It specialized in hard drinks and beers, although one wouldn't be surprised if the blond owner did stock finer tastes of upscale champagnes, ports and wines, for special occasions. Orihime wasn't a drinker, but then Benihime Bar wasn't only known for their extensive hard drinks collection. They serve the most mean spirited steaks, a good price for their value, with a selection of beef cuts almost challenging the same aforementioned alcohol stockpile. That was what she went for, during times when she was so hungry that she could eat a horse.

And of course, needless to say, they have the best cocktail bar in town.

"What are you here for today? Is Ichigo and the gang coming by?"

"Oh no, I'm meeting a friend here. Not sure if you've seen him?" She inched her hands to Grimmjow's height. "About this tall and sports bright blue hair?"

Urahara tapped his nose. "Is that a date?"

"Haha, Urahara-san, no, he's just a friend," she giggled. The last thing she would imagine is having Grimmjow as a boyfriend. It was something that could rival Yamazaki-san's earlier comment this morning with Ulquiorra, and now that she was in better spirits, she thought both were quite funny.

"Well, I haven't seen anyone by that description yet. Do you want to grab a table? I can get you the table at the corner so you can have some privacy."

It was a good place for hanging out, and when needed, they have a slightly quieter corner in the bar for a more private experience. And then there was the fine dining section. The whole place was divided in the middle by the area of the bar counter, separating the bar section from the fine dining section on the other side by a wall. Whereas Orihime was now standing on the bar side, with pool tables and darts of a typical English pub style atmosphere, she knew that the adjoining room across had impeccably laid out tables in dark forest green and finel cutlery and crystal goblets, washed in a low, ambient dim light and carpeted floors. Benihime was a strange twist to the standard definition of the branding of restauranteur enterprise, but it worked. There was Benihime the bar, and Benihime the restaurant. Both were well known for rowdy good fun, as well as elegant, exquisite dining.

She blushed. "No Urahara-san, really. He's just a friend."

Urahara gave a knowing glance. "If you say so…"

"If you don't mind, I'll have a wait for him here at the bar, we can catch up while I'm waiting."

"Feel free. The clients are sparse during weekdays, and I have nothing better to do," he sighed in excess in mock forlorn as she turned to look at the full swing of people across the floor in contradiction, "I am in dire need of a beautiful girl to fan my inspiration nowdays."

She giggled. She liked Urahara, he was easy to talk to without being pretentious. It was almost self condescending in a way, inviting and quite endearing.

"You better make sure Yoruichi doesn't hear that, she might get those elk antlers and charge right at you."

"That old hag? Save me from the wart-infested witch woman, Orihime," he placed out a matching green fan and fanned surreptitiously under its covers, a faint wrinkle in his eyes fanning his humor.

The back kitchen door slammed and a hand came out from nowhere, pinching the blonde entrepreneur across his ears in aggressive reprimand. "Who are you calling a wart-infested witch?"

Orihime chuckled. Yoruichi, Urahara's partner, was anything but ugly. She was dark skinned in an exotic way, a lithe figure and beautiful slanted feline eyes … currently in a kitchen apron and a red cross skulls bandanna tied around her head, while long, slim fingers attacking the said bar owner's ear.

"Owwoww… Yoruichi my love, I was just jesting with Orihime. Please … please let goooOOoo…."

Yoruichi slapped the rag she was holding on to the counter table while still keeping her fingers tightly on the surreptitious blonde, making sure he was still squirming against the counter surface. "Orihime, what a nice surprise. We haven't seen you in months. Is Ichigo coming over?"

It was quite embarrassing to have two people ask her about Ichigo. It was not as if she was his caretaker… she was likely the last person to be so, but unfortunately, she was mostly with the gang, and Ichigo by extension - Ichigo being the leader that brought about their tightly wound up group. It didn't help that everyone except the person involved were privy of her infantile crush with her orange haired counterpart during those days, but it was a time almost long past…. Almost, anyway. She'd gotten over her little crush, but old habits die hard, and she still found him admirable and adorable at the same time.

"Uh-no.. I was telling Urahara-san here that –"

He was still fumbling underneath the counter. "She's meeting someone else!"

"Oh, really now," she interjected, finally letting go of her partner, "Anyone we know? Is it Uryuu?"

"Ishida-kun? Why would he be meeting with me here?" she asked, confused.

"It's because he's probably been pining-"

_Slam._ Yoruichi's fist hit Urahara squarely on his head, his strange green striped top hat crumpling flat, forever silencing the words that was about to be uttered from his lips.

"Ignore him, Orihime," she glanced at Urahara, giving him a warning look unnoticed by Orihime, "I just thought maybe Uryuu was meeting up with you, he was here a couple of times for the past two weeks, I thought maybe finally he would get a friend to talk to instead of just sitting there by himself."

"Oh, I didn't know that. I was busy the past couple of weeks. Maybe I should give him a call…"

Yoruichi shrugged. "He probably needs a friend to talk to, anyway. Tried joining him a few times, but he declined graciously." She laughed. "The boy is too much a gentleman around girls. But that aside, he looked a bit withdrawn. Is anything the matter these days?"

"Not that I know of, Yoruichi-san. He was doing fine in school the last time I was there, and we went out all together a few times for the past few weeks. He didn't seem any different to me."

"Well, maybe it's not such a big problem… or maybe it is, if you're hiding it well amongst friends," she remarked offhandedly, "But maybe he needs a friend to talk to… it's always no good sitting alone by oneself all the time."

Uryuu... alone? Come to think of it, she hasn't spent any time with the gang since she started work. Ishida liked his privacy, but she didn't think he would be the type of person to drink by himself. That wasn't normal. Her brows furrowed with a bit of worry, ... and then she suddenly caught herself with a stray thought.

It was because Yoruichi's words also brought up a different, but parallel image, entirely. She wondered why she worried for Uryuu, while it seemed perfectly normal to not have the same thoughts with Ulquiorra. _He_ was alone all the time. He probably sat by himself all the time. Her eyes again furrowed when she remembered her office workspace. Cold. Cold eyes. She shivered, but regained her stature.

"Probably. I'll drop him a call one of these days, but it's just that, I've been very busy with work-"

Urahara's face popped up on top of Yoruichi's shoulders, looking at her curiously."Ohh? You're a working woman now, Orihime? I thought you were still studying."

"Stop badgering the woman, Kisuke," Yoruichi pushed his face away.

"It's alright, Yoruichi-san. I'm actually meeting one of my colleagues here, it's sort of a secret meeting … to make battle plans," she smiled and winked.

"OoooOoooH… secret meetings, I like those."

Yoruichi ignored the man beside her and concentrated instead on the orange haired girl in front of her. This was interesting development. "That sounds entirely unlike you, Orihime. You're more likely to jump off a cliff than take on an adversary. Something in the office I take it?"

"There's just a colleague that makes my work… challenging," she flushed, embarrassed to admit she was in a bit of a fix.

"Where do you work anyway?" Urahara asked.

"Over at Arrancar, do you know the place?"

Urahara and Yoruichi both looked at each other before glancing back to the girl. "Oh, we know a few of them here and there. Their office is quite near this place, so it's not odd to see some of them pass by here once in a while. Is the person you're in battle with in question anyone we know?" Yoruichi asked.

Suddenly alarmed at the insinuation, she panicked, wondering if Ulquiorra might show his face up here before she met Grimmjow. Then she remembered he didn't like alcohol…. or crowds. Benihime was as crowded as one can get, and there was no way her green eyed jailer would even fanthom passing by. She calmed down.

"No, I doubt it. He doesn't like crowds a lot, so it's not his type of place," she supplied.

"Ahh… a lost potential customer then," Urahara interjected, sporting a feigned forlorn expression.

After a second or so, Yoruichi spoke from her thoughts. "Oh, a he, is it?"

"Yes, he's a bit uptight," Orihime answered, not catching on Yoruichi's insinuation, "but I think he's a nice guy overall… I just need to get around his strange tendencies... Nothing violent!" she quickly defended.

"Sounds like you have a handful … you never had any problems taking care of people, violent or otherwise. Must be an interesting character, this colleague of yours," Yoruichi supplied.

"I think underneath it all, I think he's special. But working with him is such…. um... a bit difficult!" she tried to stop rolling her eyes, but failed.

"Oh, what an interesting person. Difficult? That's almost like an expletive for you, Orihime-san!" Kisuke interjected.

She blushed. She didn't like saying bad things about other people, but Ulquiorra takes the cake after five days of torment at his office. She was stripped of her rights, and it was causing her to drive herself up into the wall. A savior aside, he was like a _Monet_ – nice to look at afar, but a mess when seen up close. But in hindsight, there was a design to all that madness. At least she'd like to believe so. Probably a masterpiece, but it was too early to tell. All she could tell is that he was smart … impossibly smart. Which is why she needed another head to compensate for her own.

She looked at her watch. Grimmjow was supposed to arrive at seven, and it was already half past.

"Is the person meeting up with you, late?" Yoruichi asked.

"He's already half an hour late." She looked about worriedly. "The office is just across the block, he should be here by now."

"Oh, another he? Not much of a gentleman to keep the lady waiting."

Orihime giggled. "There's not much 'shes' over there at the company. But this one is nice, but a little clumsy."

"I don't think Arrancar employees are ever clumsy, Orihime-san," Urahara suddenly said in all seriousness.

"Oh but they are. Well, a small handful of them. This one's one of the exceptions, I think. He just lives by the minute, that's all. Not much into long term plans," she replied back cheerily. "They have quite a colorful crew over there."

Urahara started flapping his fan in front of his face. "You seem to be having an interesting time there, Orihime-san. Colorful… is an interesting word to use."

The kitchen doors suddenly opened to find a shy, pigtailed girl with kind eyes walk across towards them hurriedly from behind the counter. Despite her dimunitive figure, she walked with a kind of quiet, sing-song grace unlike her teenage years. She was walking straight to Yoruichi in a frantic manner.

"What is it, Ururu?"

"He's asking for Korean _yukhoe_ using _Tajima-ushi_, Yoruichi-san… I can't do them fast enough before the beef cools in my hands. You know he gets impatient ..."

Yoruichi rolled her eyes.

"Excuse me, Orihime, there's a demanding customer we acquired recently on the other side waiting to be served," she smiled. "Hope you get your battle settled soon," she winked and walked off back to the kitchen, with nervous-faced Ururu on her heels.

"Demanding customer?" she asked Urahara.

"Popped up three weeks ago. I haven't met the person per se, but I hear he gave Yoruichi a bit of a hard time at first. Testy one. Came down looking for fois gras the first time, a specifically grilled O-toro the week after that. Seems he has specific tastes," he laughed.

"She has to put up with it every day?"

"Oh, no, not daily. So far with the count, he always comes by on Fridays at half past seven."

She probably wondered how she would fare if she had met a demanding customer over at Yamazaki's. So far everything was good, and she didn't have to put up with nuisances. Besides, there was no complaining the baked breads there, which in her opinion, was perfect. A lot of people complimented on his breads, saying that they were as good, sometimes even better than the original French versions – she wouldn't know, she's never been out of the country to compare. She just knew they were good with her adzuki bean paste.

"Must be hard to put up with a customer."

"Well that's how things are. Enough with work. Haven't seen the gang for a while, they're all on summer break, aren't they?"

"Yes we met up two weeks ago for some indoor climbing, but we haven't met up afterwards."

"Well, you're bound to see Uryuu sooner or later. Like Yoruichi said, he pops in once in a while, not sure what he is up about."

"Actually, you know what,..." Orihime thought with a kind of determination, "since I'm here, I might as well drop Ishida-kun a call. He might want to have a drink… and he gets to meet my colleague too. He was kind of worried about them at the start," she supplied. "Hold on."

She grabbed her phone and dialed Ishida's number.

It rang three times before she heard his unexpected gruff voice at the end of the line. "Ishida speaking."

"Uhh.. Sorry Ishida-kun, this is Orihime. Did.. did I bother you?"

"Oh, Orihime… no, no. I was just a bit preoccupied when you called, that's all," the quickly backtracking voice on the other line said.

"I see…" she hesistated.

"Don't worry about it Orihime, its nothing. Why'd you call?"

So curt. "I was wondering, it's a Friday night, and I'm here at Benihime's. Do you want to come over and have a drink?"

"Sure... I need a break anyway. I have to finish up something over here first, I'll be there in an hour, that alright?"

She thought an hour would be just right after she finished with Grimmjow… If he really bothered to come.

"No problem, take your time."

"Alright. Tell Kurosaki to hold the drinks before he finishes them without me. I'll see you in a bit."

"Wait Ishida-kun –"

_Click._

She stared at her phone. She forgot to tell him Ichigo wasn't here.

"You look dumbfounded, Orihime… did he just hang up on you?" Urahara asked, dispensing an order of beer for a table on the far side of the bar.

"Err… sort of. He thought everyone was here and asked me to tell Ichigo to hold the drinks until he arrives."

"Wouldn't it be funny if he finds out there's no one here except you and your friend!" he chuckled with himself.

"He seemed preoccupied with something…"

"But he's coming, right?" Urahara pointed out.

"Yes…."

"Well, we'll just wait it out then. Is your colleague-friend really coming?"

"I don't-"

"Princess!" she heard Grimmjow, and turned around to the direction of the voice...

... and was met with him sporting a impressive amount of gauze wrapped about his forehead, his spikey blue hair peeking out from underneath all the medical cloth. He was also sporting a growing bruise in his lower jaw. Despite the patch up, he was still grinning like nothing's wrong.

"Oh my goodness, Grimmjow, what happened?" She jumped up her seat and ran up the short way to him. When she got to him, she asked him again. "What happened?"

"Forget it. That fool Nnoitra brought up something stupid during the weekly meeting and we had a rough punch up." He walked over to where she was sitting, with a curiously interested Urahara eyeing Orihime's friend.

"_Weihenstephaner ... Vitus_?" Urahara asked.

"Thanks, that's perfect. I'm surprised you have it here."

"We like to make sure to stock most good brands. It helps to know people in customs, too," Urahara interjected, and flapped his fan again surreptitiously. He passed a frothy mug to Grimmjow.

"Right." Grimmjow turned to Orihime. "Sorry about being late, princess. I had to patch my head up before it bled out, and had to take a shower and a change of clothes. My shirt was messed up with all the blood. Ruining my favorite shirt. Tch. Such an asshole." He took a huge swag of his Bavarian beer.

"Should you be drinking alcohol at a time like this?" She asked worriedly, "Alcohol are blood thinners... Your wound might open. How bad is it?" She tried to reach up his forehead, but Grimmjow merely slapped her hand aside.

"Don't worry, I've been at this before." He leaned towards the counter. "Nothing helps forget pain than a good bottle of alcohol to disinfect the head wound," he chuckled. "That shit Ulquiorra didn't even pull his punches –"

"Ulquiorra-san? I thought it was Nnoitra-kun?"

"Oh Nnoitra and I were in a punch up, we were arguing about the design for one of the imaging systems and we didn't meet eye to eye on it. It was just the usual banter – well, I was creaming him anyway – but Ulquiorra just got pissed at us, saying we were taking too long, and ended it." He took another swag and looked at his new shirt. "Goddammit. He didn't have to get a blood all over my shirt. I had that custom made back home," he growled, tilting his mug again for another swallow.

"You shouldn't be drinking, Grimmjow –" she frantically tried to stop him from drinking, but Grimmjow merely pushed her hand away.

"I could have that fixed for you in no time, if you like, Grimmjow-san" Urahara offered surreptitiously, "We specialize in all sorts of things."

The blue haired man glanced at Urahara. "Sure why not. Otherwise it'll just go to trash bin. I didn't catch your name?"

"Oh yes, Grimmjow-kun," Orihime offered, "This is Urahara Kisuke. Urahara-san, this is my colleague Grimmjow Jagerjaquez."

"Nice meeting ya." Grimmjow put two fingers to his forehead in casual salute, eyeing the blond barman behind the counter, asking for another mug. Orihime eyed it in defeat. He was really drinking too much.

"Didn't know you frequent this place, Princess. I thought you didn't drink much?"

"No, I don't, not too much. Now stop drinking, you've probably just had a concussion –"

"Oh Orihime-san likes our steaks." Urahara was winking at her. _What was that for?_ "Why don't you get her one of our specials as a form of apology for letting her wait?"

"What? No Urahara-san, not the specials!" she answered in horror.

"What's so special about the specials?" Grimmjow asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"It's a 1.2 kilogram prime rib, dry aged, grass fed Argentinian beef. Extra marbled. Highly recommended."

Grimmjow laughed. "She can't finish a fucking kilogram of beef! Curves like hers? She'd be caught stealing than eating something like that!"

Orihime blushed at her colleagues' comment. Although she knew she was well endowed, she never was fronted directly with the fact. No one said Grimmjow was the penultimate model of tact. And she was catching on with what Urahara was planning. Not that she liked it, but its better than someone with a bleeding wound in a bar.

"You would be surprised, Jajagerquez-san."

"You've got to be kidding me. You'll need to have ultra-high metabolism to even get rid of the after effects of that much meat." He looked over at Orihime, chuckling. "Can you actually finish one like the way this blonde guy says?"

She went even redder.

"You're joking!"

"She can even finish it in under twenty minutes," Urahara laughed. "Almost like our unofficial mascot-muse, she is."

"Oh my goodness, this I got to see."

"No… Urahara-san… It's embarrassing!" She uttered.

"Did you have your dinner yet, Orihime?" Urahara asked, ignoring her previous comment.

She looked about looking for someone to save her from possible embarrassment. Unfortunately, Ichigo was not around… he was usually the one who stops everyone from egging her on. Not that she didn't like the food, but the attention was quite embarrassing. She moved her head from side to side in the negative.

"Perfect. Would be a good way to have a good Friday night, don't you think?" Urahara said. "If I may suggest, how about you race Inoue-san here to the finish line?"

She turned even redder, if that was possible.

Grimmjow laughed. "Alright, princess. I'll get you one of those specials, race you to the finish line together, how about that?"

She nodded timidly. If he stops drinking then why not. "Okay," she assented.

"Oh my, now we've got a competition going. This is even better." Urahara added in glee. He banged his first on the bar counter, and hollered across to the kitchen. "Jinta! Get two of the steak specials fired up in the grill."

A red head boy peeked out from the kitchen doors. "How do you want those done?"

Urahara looked back at the two Arrancar colleagues for their orders.

"Mostly rare, bordering on medium rare," Grimmjow stauntered.

"Just the way she likes it, right Orihime-san?" She nodded, wondering what egged her into this situation, preparing herself from the coming onslaught of cheers.

"You heard them Jinta. Go fire up the grill!"

Urahara poised his hands to his lips in announcement. "Everyone, we're having a steak special competition today, two entrants! Any other takers?"

Having caught everyone's attention, chatters were just about heard every corner of the bar. It was causing quite a ruckus, and in effect, also causing Yoruichi's head to pop out of the kitchens a few moments later.

"What is going on here? You're making too much noise, Kisuke, I can hear you all the way from the other side," she hissed.

"Orihime and her friend are about to race themselves with the Argentinian Specials."

"Oh-hoho. That's interesting. Are you sure she's up to it?"

"She said yes."

"And who's her challenger?"

"The blue haired guy with the bandages over his head. Its not really a challenger, he's just helping her out. He didn't believe it when I told him she could finish it. He's footing the bill."

"Oh, how nice. But... do you think you can tone it down though? My customers on the other side can hear you all the way from there."

"But love, this is a Friday night. It's good fun."

"Nevertheless, it wouldn't do," Yoruichi came back firmly.

"How many do you have over there, anyway?"

"Three, counting Shunsui and Ukitake."

"Posh, call them over, Shunsui and Ukitake can join in."

"And the other one?" she asked inquiringly.

"Is he the testy one?" Urahara slid his fan in front of his face in amusement.

"Yes."

"Will he be finished in thirty minutes? Jinta's fired up the grills for rares."

A pause, then Yoruichi answered. "Possibly."

"We'll start after he leaves then. I'll keep the decibels down until then. Warn any other new customers they need to put up with the noise if they want to have dinner there."

"Kisuke…" she warned, not liking the idea of shutting down the fine dining area for her partner's whims.

"Aww, come on, please Shihoin Yoruichi? I haven't had this much fun for months."

She sighed. "Alright. Just tonight, okay?"

Urahara grinned.

"Of course."

* * *

Thirty minutes laters, two tables were set up face to face in the middle of the bar, and surrounded by curious and heckling onlookers.

Orihime sat in one of them, wondering how she got into this predicament. She was supposed to talk to Grimmjow on how to get around Ulquiorra, and ended up having to go about eating Agentinian Specials. Uryuu was probably just about to arrive soon, and would probably be find her eating the kilogram steak. _At least he doesn't have to wait long,_ she thought. Twenty minutes, tops, is just about right. If she can finish it, then… maybe she wouldn't have to get Uryuu waiting for her.

At least she got Grimmjow to stop drinking beer. He was abstaining himself at the moment, to get enough space to fill in his stomach with steak in the next few minutes. Head wounds and alcohol do not mix, ever, contrary to what her blue haired colleague commented. He was sitting across her still grinning like a his head wasn't wrapped in bandages.

"Are you really sure you can finish it, princess?" He asked.

She sighed. "Yes."

"In twenty minutes?"

"I suppose I can do it faster if I hurry…"

"What's with that funny looking bottle over there? I don't see it in my set."

He was referring to the slew of sauces on each of their tables. All manner of sauces to complement the steak. Both of them had identical ones, except for one that was red tinged. It was the one she took out of her office bag.

"It's sweet adzuki paste. I had it in my bag."

"For what?" He asked quizzically.

"I like it on my steak. It gives a nice sweet aftertaste."

"No way, that's weird."

"Not as weird as having a punch out at a board meeting…" she argued.

"Hey, that's normal!"

"Or having alcohol after a serious head wound…"

"People do that!"

"Or asking a girl to eat Argentinian Specials for competition…" she added.

"Alright, alright. Put in whatever you like in your steak, I still think it's weird."

"…."

They both looked at one another, surrounded by people noisily making bets on the possible winner. Her colleague, that was now fast turning into a friend, spoke first, loudly to get on top of the growing noise.

"Did you bring your laptop with you?" he shouted.

"No... Should I have?" she asked.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. I was going to install something on it so you can talk to us easier on the other floors. You know, for times when you can't get away from him. Net send is for wimps. I got something better I wrote out. You can circumvent Cuatro's spy detection system too."

"Maybe I can bring it next time, Grimmjow-kun. In the meantime, I need to get away from him.. I can't have him tagging along all the time."

"I could get you another access card from Yammy…"

"That would probably work," Orihime agreed.

"I'll need to hack into the surveillance system of the building though. He's probably looking at those too."

"He does?"

"He's shit ass obsessive compulsive, remember?"

"Is... is it a lot of work?" she inquired worriedly.

"Nah, just a few strings here and there, don't worry," he grinned. "Oh, here comes our Friday meal."

She looked at the wall clock. She tried to calculate the time needed to finish the competition. It said quarter past eight. She called Uryuu at a little half past seven, almost a quarter before eight. An hour before he arrives. That leaves her with a good fifteen to twenty minutes, give or take, to finish her steak, since Uryuu usually estimates ten to fifteen minutes earlier than his promised time. She breathed and uncapped her adzuki bean paste.

"All righty, everyone. We're going to start the first ever Argentinian Specials Competition. On one side, the lovely Orihime Inoue, our unofficial record holder, on the other side, Grimmjow Jajagerquez, upcoming challenger –"

"I'm a challenger?"

"ShhhhHHH" shhsshed everyone.

"- vying for the unofficial title of champion record holder." Urahara snickered. "May the best gentleman or lady win. And now, the star of the night, our Argentinian Specials!"

The red headed boy came out of the kitchens carrying what could me said to me a giant sized slab of prime rib, still steaming and cooked directly from the grills, and placed in front of both competitors.

"Holy crap," Grimmjow surprised at the steaming pile of meat in front of him, cocked his head towards Orihime, "This makes her look like Tinkerbell."

He took a deep breath, "I didn't think it was THIS huge."

Everyone laughed, including Orihime, giggling at her colleague. Suddenly amongst the crowd and roaring laughter, she thought she heard a deadpan voice saying, "… That's because you're an idiot, Sexta."

Orihime stopped and was surprised to hear someone refer to Grimmjow. There was only one she knew who had a deadpan voice, called Grimmjow an idiot, and occasionally referred him as Sexta. But she was also in Benihime the pub, and there was no way the man she suspected would be mingling amongst the crowd of drunken establishment. She looked about nervously, looking at the direction of what she thought was the voice, trying to distinguish any jet black hair in the crowd. All she found were two clean worn, long haired men hanging about beside Urahara holding crystal goblets filled with what was likely to be port.

She shook herself. Nothing to be afraid of. What if he was here, it's not like she was doing anything wrong. And steeled herself. Her first steak in a long time, she smiled inwardly. This is going to be fun.

"Ready ladies and gentlemen?"

She took her knife into her hands. Grimmjow was grinning like a crazy cat across her. She could smell the wonderful waft of prime beef in front of her.

"On your mark,"

She was determined to do this. Grimmjow he picked up his knife lazily. She thought of the adzuki paste melting nicely over hot, wonderous marbled beef.

"Get set,"

She looked at her blue haired friend and he gave her a wink. She smiled and winked back. "See you in the finish line, princess!" he said.

"GOOOoooOOOOoooo!" Everyone shouted in unison.

The first thing she did was dunk her knife into the homemade paste. Grimmjow, on the other hand, went straight for the meat like lightning, a panther half starved and in want of thirst in the blazing African-sun.

She carved out almost half the bottle and quickly spread the paste across the steak, seeing the succulent juices slowly dripping out of the well-rested meat. It was red, oh my beautiful red. The paste was slowly melting away into the whole heavenly dish in front of her.

"What is she doing? What is that? Some special sauce?" she heard the others holler about her. She smiled. Grimmjow was an eighth into his heavenly slab and looking like a ravaged, dangerous cat.

And then she took her fork, and started knifing cubes faster than anyone would have thought possible.

Cut. Cube. Fork. Chew.

She did this simultaneously while continuing to cut.

And another cube. Fork. Chew.

And another. Fork. Chew.

And another.

Cube. Fork. Chew.

Yes. She's got it down to a very nice rhythm.

* * *

Twelve minutes later, she was a thirds away from the finish line. She didn't realize she had already finished two-thirds until she saw Grimmjow panting for a rest. She stopped to look at her plate, and then his. He was only halfway through. She chuckled. Well, that should keep him from drinking down another mug of his _Weihenstephaner_. She giggled. He's barely even touched his mug.

She looked about, a couple of men hooting out Grimmjow for losing to a girl. She, on the other hand, had her own personal cheerleading team made up of odd patrons. Yoruichi was leading the way, though. In the background, Urahara was giving a blow by blow account of the competition.

She still had a third to go. Ishida face popped up in front of her, looking smug and giving her an encouraging smile.

She remembered somewhere along the way between half way and two thirds of the steak, she saw Uryuu's curious look peek through the crowd, and suddenly his eyes lit up with laughter when he saw what was going on. He gave her a thumbs up and joined the rest crowd. She was a bit worried of him not joining in after finding out the gang wasn't around, but he seemed alright with it. She thought that was quite nice.

She finished her plate in exactly fifteen minutes and twenty three seconds. Grimmjow was two thirds away from his, and eventually gave up.

"And our reigning champion, Inoue Orihime!" Hoots and whistles bounded the room. She smiled like she had just won a beauty pageant. Except beauty pageants don't give you that warm fulfilling feeling when you've just downed one of the more fantastic meals of your life. She stood up, smiled and curtsied elegantly towards the crowd.

She was still feeling high with thrill of the race, and all the culmination of one point two kilogram of sizzling marbled fat. So in effect, when the crowd broke up and she caught sight of Ishida, she jumped immediately towards him in unrepressed glee.

"Ishida-kun!" she exclaimed, hugging her friend, fully aware of herself smelling like well cooked, exquisitely marbled beef.

She didn't notice him jerk from surprise being hugged by her, she was too dizzy and tipsy to notice, but she did feel him recovering a moment afterwards. "Okay, okay hold on there, Inoue-san," he gave her a light hug back and pulled her away, holding on to both her shoulders at arms length. He looked at her squarely like a parent looking over their child. She brightly gave him a smile.

"When you asked me to come, I didn't expect that you were taking on a competition again with someone. Are you showing off?" he lightly laughed. It was warm, light-hearted laugh. Not the gruff voice that answered the phone earlier. Goodness, she felt good. Like flying in the air. Everything felt a bit swishy and hazy, for some strange reason. But she had a warm, comfortable feeling in the depths of her stomach. Contentment.

And then she giggled. She seemed to have lost control of her vocal cords. As well as her appendages. How strange.

"I think you have a bit of sauce on your face. Here, let me get it for you," he took a paper on the table beside him, and felt him gently wipe her nose, "There you go. Now how in the world did it get there? You don't usually eat like a slob with steak, if I remember correctly."

She continued to giggle. She was thoroughly tipped over, she knew, and couldn't seem to control herself. Her head was swimming.

"All right, you're drunk with fat, Inoue-san. Sit down. I think you might actually tip over. Here." He took a chair and managed to get her to sit down. She suddenly felt the urge to droop her eye lids and curl up.

"Inoue-san, no sleeping in the bar. Here you go, you can lean on the table if you like."

Uryuu was not quite impressed with the aftermath of the competition. He knew Orihime could finish the plate, but he was concerned about the aftereffects – which he is pretty much putting up with now. The last time this happened, she was non-responsive and curled herself up in the cushioned armchair here at Benihime. She slept like a stone, and they had to carry her back to her place and sheepishly explained to her brother Sora that she was not drunk… not with alcohol anyway. She merely… had a comforting dinner. That earned both him and Kurosaki some suspicious looks from her brother.

He looked at the man slumped across the table – her challenger so to speak. Practically bawling out, he smirked inwardly. No one challenges Orihime to a steak eating contest unless they were crazy, and seeing the blue haired man, strangely with bandages all over his head, he was probably one of them. He looked at Orihime now, smiling distantly like kingdom come.

"So I guess she's in heaven land, Ishida-san?" Urahara's head popped out to glance at the orange haired girl.

"You should be the best person to know what her condition is, Urahara-san…" He sighed. "Can you get her a glass of cold water? With a few slices of lemon. She's going to have to get those fat swimming around her head out."

"Alright. Hold on," the bar owner assented.

He sat beside Orihime to keep her awake. There wasn't Sora anymore to contend with, but he would prefer she kept her faculties in working order before heading off home. "So I guess you've had your fill now, Orihime-san? Have you paid the bill yet?"

Orihime looked at Uryuu and smiled distantly. "Free dinner. Grimmjow is paying," she pointed to the man groaning on the makeshift table, "wasn't a good idea for him, though. I just wanted him to stop drinking huge amounts of beer, and he egged me on for a performance."

She continued to smile and tried to make her face look serious, which failed miserably. It was quite endearing while she tried to contort her face in all seriousness, yet her eyes were in a faraway, heavenly look. But he took what she said all in stride, and let her continue.

"Wasn't good to be consuming large amounts of alcohol with that head injury of his, anyway," she tapped her forehead several times to make a point. "He just got them an two hours ago. Had to think of a way to stop him -"

"Alright, I get the picture, Orihime-san..."

" – it's all _his_ fault. Ulquiorra's fault," she reiterated, suddenly pouting at the thought, "I wouldn't have to down that much steak if he didn't hit Grimmjow in the head with Nnoitra. But it was a good steak. Very nice… Heavenly." She sighed and slumped her head on his left shoulder.

Uryuu lightly picked her head up from his shoulder, and carefully set her leaning down on the table. He stepped back a bit and reviewed the aftermath, his head recalling her words just now. He was completely confused by Orihime's speech. Specifically, the names of several people involved that he was not aware of. All he understood was that some violent fight went on and three people were involved. His already thin lips became even thinner with consternation. And Orihime had to fix it somehow by downing a large amount of meat.

He felt a tap on his shoulder. "Here you go Ishida-san!" Urahara handed him a cold glass of water. The top was swimming with what was likely to be a good half chunk of sliced lemons. He crushed the lemons further with the spoon, and gave it a little swirl.

As he walked over to her to give Orihime her remedy, he bumped his feet into a man who was leaning on one of the table counters. "Sorry."

"Not a problem," the low, rigid response came. Uryuu glanced back to the man, because he sounded like he had a big problem, instead. The man was eyeing the two knocked down contestants. _Probably a spectator watching the aftermath,_ he thought. There was always a few of them who hung around afterwards just to get a laugh out of the situation. He shrugged and came over to Orihime.

"Orihime, can you hold on to this for me?" He carefully nudged her head upright and handed her the glass, "Take a sip, it'll make you feel a bit better. I'll be back in a second, alright?"

"MmmmM," she nodded enthusiastically. She was still spaced out.

After making sure she was not dropping her head onto the table, Uryuu stood up. "Alright. Is anyone going to pick him up from there?" he nodded towards Grimmjow, still groaning, face down the table.

The only people around were Urahara, and the man who he had bumped into earlier. The dark haired man didn't look like he had any intention of helping. Uryuu glanced at the bar owner instead, who was already going over to the direction of Orihime's friend.

"Let's pick him up beside Orihime. Besides, she was meeting him… something about a battle, I think," Urahara said behind his quickly vibrating open fan.

Uryuu gawked. "Battle?"

"No idea, she was talking to us about handling a colleague. I think he was supposed to help her, somehow."

"Alright." He walked over and picked up the blue haired man, noticing that he was much heavier than how he looked. "I guess this guy's added a few pounds after the show?"

Urahara grunted as he carried Grimmjow on the opposite site. He was still groaning. "About a kilogram, I gather. He didn't finish his." Urahara humorously pointed out.

"Right…." Came Ishida's sarcastic reply. He heaved Orihime's heavy friend, and glanced back at the counter, hoping that the other person would help. The man was gone. Ishida grumbled. The least _he_ could do was help out after having a cut of the entertainment tonight. He lugged the knocked out man towards the empty seat beside Orihime.

They got him seated him beside Orihime, which was looking rather better after her first sip. She still giggled though, and nudged the man beside her. "So, you're convinced, right? Still want another mug of your _Weihenstephaner_?"

"Please… no girl should be able to down that much steak in one go… it's fucking unnatural, Princess," clutching his stomach. He suddenly lurched and quickly covered his mouth. "I think I'm going to throw up."

"Don't you dare Grimmjow.." she giggled uncontrollably. "Otherwise you're not man enough..."

"I should be calling you a monster in the office, not princess…" he groaned, his head still on the table, "Unnatural…" he eyed her incredulously, "and you can still drink a glass of lemon water? How big exactly is your stomach, Princess?"

"Alright, enough bantering for one night, kids," Urahara chirped. "That was a mean piece of steak I had Jinta cooked up for you guys."

"Give me a minute… I'll have my wallet out in no time.." Grimmjow made an effort to get his wallet from his pockets, but then he promptly slumped back onto the table in front of him.

"It's alright Grimmjow-san, pay me back on Monday when you come back from work, no hurry."

"Ugh. She must be a cow, they have three stomachs, don't they?"

"Four, Grimmjow-kun." She corrected, now feeling a bit better as the lemon water started taking effect, and turned to Ishida. "I feel much better now... But wasn't nice to deny me a nice, long sleep, though." she pouted.

Uryuu crooked his glasses and faced her, smiling. "I guess you're not up for a drink now?"

"No, but how about dessert?" She even managed to throw out a respectable wink at him.

"Unnatural…." She heard her colleague groan.

"I could go for coffee," Ishida smiled.

"Grimmjow, do you want to go back home now? I can call you a cab," she asked.

"Yes,… home."

"Tell you what Inoue-san, let's bring your friend home. I brought a car along. I think it's better we bring him up ourselves."

"Regardless, I don't think I know where Grimmjow lives." She turned to look at her friend. "Where DO you live, Grimmjow-kun?"

"Near, just Las Noches, near the park."

"Well that's not far, but I'm not going to carry your friend back there," Ishida commented, "Let's load him up, I'll drive the way. Wait here, Inoue-san. I'll ring you up when I'm near so you can bring your friend out."

She nodded.

Orihime waited inside Benihime's, until she heard her phone ringing. She grabbed her colleague, supporting him by the shoulders. He looked like he was feeling a bit better.

"Lets go Grimmjow."

She stepped out with Grimmjow supporting himself on her shoulder, and was trying to find Uryuu's beat up blue Honda hatchback in the crowd. Instead, she found him coming out of a sleek, big, black impressive looking sedan. It looked imposing.

Grimmjow looked at the car and gave a muffled laugh. "BMW 9 series. Nice wheels, man. Let's hope I don't throw up inside though, it'd be a shame to mess it up. A cab would have been far nicer."

"Just get in," Uryuu replied curtly.

"Your loss, buddy."

* * *

**AN:** I really think she can rival Yoruichi in terms of appetite. We all know Orihime has her little quirks. I just made sure to show it in this fanfic. So did you catch it? Did you catch it? Did you see _him_?

**Next:** Orihime gets her dessert, Uryuu gets his coffee, and this story starts to brew trouble to boiling hot temp.


	11. 10 U is for

**AN:** In case you missed it, I published a chapter before this one, titled "Chapter 09: Argentinian Specials", replacing an earlier AN chapter announcement. (The said AN has been moved to silverquord . deviantart . com, for those who are interested ) The mentioned chapter may not have properly alerted people who were following this story. If you don't know what an "Argentinian Special" is, then I'm sure you haven't read the chapter yet. If so, then read the previous chapter first before reading this one.

Thank you for all the people who have taken their time and left their honest reviews. Hats off also for the helpful corrections/elaboration of language etc. Appreciate it! :)

For this chapter: This is a drastic change from my regular approach and in hindsight, could come across as out of place for some of you. But despite this, it remains one of my favorites to-date, strange as it may seem. Even stranger since I've decided it was painful for me to write this. Take a look and see if you will agree with me. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: Bleach and its characters are owned by Tite Kubo. ********************All other entities and intellectual properties mentioned herein are proprietary to their respective owners.******** Otherwise, the idea of this story belongs to the author - me************. **

**Shades Of Gray**

**Chapter 10: U Is For  
**

* * *

"_The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong."_

_-Mahatma Ghandi, Indian Philosopher, Advocate of Nonviolent Protest_

* * *

Awkward.

That was the perfect word to describe Ishida Uryuu's situation at this very moment.

Right after they've dropped off Grimmjow to his flat, and making sure Orihime's blue haired colleague managed to stumble into the right door, it happened. That all too familiar moment when one is suddenly loss for words, and silence creeps up; the beginnings of an uncomfortable, uneasy moment when you weren't sure how to be polite to someone, and everything felt alien, and unfamiliar. Uryuu had closely followed Orihime from behind, hoping for her to speak out and initiate some conversation, but was surprised that she continued to keep her silence. Stepping into the lift of the high class serviced apartment, only the elevator music hummed as they stood apart, waiting for the lift and its barely audible machination drones to finally arrive at the ground floor.

It followed them, and wordlessly, the only thing Uryuu could do was to match Orihime's slow pace as she walked out of the building and towards his car. Almost as if mimicking action per action, their car doors simultaneously closed with a loud, eerie thump.

And then there was silence, and darkness.

There was only one singular thought that crossed his mind as he sat woodenly at his side of the driver's seat, taking a quick glance at the only remaining passenger for his car tonight:

_What now?_

The unease spread over him as he tried to shake off the feeling. Between the both of them, it was always his auburn haired passenger, Orihime, who carried the conversation. Uryuu could go on, for hours, discussing a medical dissertation with his peers, or an intelligent debate on the political state of the country and its weakening economy, with an absolute stranger, but to ask him to make small chit-chat was something he could not pull from the depths of his being. Bad enough he was in an unfamiliar situation, even worse, now he was faced with a quiet, silent Orihime seated beside him. He glanced at her solitary figure.

Despite his personal problems earlier in the evening, before he arrived at Benihime, his current situation now with her seemed, by far, a larger one.

Orihime was quiet. He didn't understand why, and wondered ... if the current situation they were in, was wrong. It was not usual for her, without her bubbly giggles and strange conversations, and he wanted to break the silence - anything, just to get things moving into a direction. Any direction. The silence was awkward.

That sentence in itself was strange, since silence was Uryuu's best friend. It didn't take a lot of effort to gravitate towards this state; the gang usually went out together, and even during the times spent studying back in Todai, that loudmouthed Ichigo was usually somewhere in the vicinity to make a ruckus. It was then easy for him to take the sidelines and disappear into the quiet, unassuming background.

And now, that same silence betrayed him. He was alone with Orihime in an enclosed, dark space - to his sudden realization, a first, despite their long friendship - and was quickly realizing he was not used to, or all that comfortable with.

He edged nervously in his seat.

There was no background to fall back to; he was foreground. He desperately searched for a thought as he cleared his throat once to cut the growing silence, but it was all in vain. The awkward, traitorous silence was sucking up ideas in his head and throttling all manner of conversational trivias directly straight into an abysmal black hole. But in the mere moments that passed afterwards, fortunately he quickly caught a lingering thought before it disappeared into oblivion.

"So... Inoue-san... " He quickly glanced at her unmoving silhouette, "what do you feel like right now?" He paused, waiting for her response. Sensing no answer forthcoming, he slowly added, "Dessert, you said... Would you like to head back to Urahara's?"

There was a pause in the air. But after a short moment, he was relieved to finally be delivered with a response.

"I don't feel like crowds after tonight," he heard her soft reply. The scene before him had an appearance of someone being encumbered by the hollowness of silence and darkness. But was she? He saw Orihime quietly fingering the leather upholstery of Uryuu's car, an appearance of how one would look when trying to figure out where one actually was, looking uncomfortable, but trying to be natural. His lips slowly thinned.

But despite these thoughts, he heard her as she quietly added, "One crowd was already enough, don't you think?..."

"... Anywhere is fine."

Uryuu looked at Orihime, her face away from him, staring out of the window. His eyes tightened. Well, if the night was going to be like this, he might as well make sure she enjoyed what she was going to have for dessert, even if present company - him - wasn't going to be spectacular. He was many things other people were not, but while that gave him an edge on certain things, what he wasn't, is proving to be a serious disadvantage now. He wasn't like the others. They were comfortable in idle banter, and even that fool Ichigo could magically make conversation out of thin air. He, on the other hand, could never carry a conversation even if his life depended on it.

He bitterly sighed. All these years with Orihime, and one would've thought he could have at least prepared something in his usual repertoire of organized filing cabinet of "engaging topics" to carry a conversation with her. He was probably the longest friend she's had, next to Tatsuki. That was also probably the only reason why she was here in his car right now.

On the other hand, she was his longest friend, ever. As if _that_ counted for something. His grip on the wheel tightened a bit.

Yes, he was a friend, but he wasn't oblivious to things around him. He wasn't brash. He wasn't loud mouthed. He wasn't orange haired, and his name definitely wasn't Kurosaki Ichigo.

He steadied himself. _No. No._ This wasn't the time, or place. He must've been more tired than he realized, to have a stupid thought like that cross his mind now. He hasn't had the best of weeks, and exhaustion was creeping up to him.

Regardless of what he thought just now... he is still her friend. He knew Orihime, and that counted for something.

"No crowds, and dessert," he voiced slowly.

Yes. She would like going there, he was sure. "I know just the place."

He took the wheel to a destination he had in mind. Now with something to occupy him, he backed his car up from Las Noches driveway. He turned the car right and slipped into the main road, concentrating on getting to their destination.

* * *

Orihime was tired - the day had been a long one, and her mind, still recovering from a bout with a large piece of steak, was slowly trying to fill itself back in with the events of the day. She was emotionally and physically tired, but after the quick discussion with Uryuu a few moments ago, his strangely tense voice, she suddenly realized her friend was trying to get her to respond. _Pay attention Orihime_, she told herself. She closed her eyes to find a semblance of orientation, chiding herself for her insensitivity, and finally, turned to look back at the man in the driver's seat.

Tailored black suit, crisp white long sleeves underneath. Unbuttoned at the top, Uryuu's hair was slicked back more than usual. Add a tie and he would have been right for a formal social function. She quickly snuck a glance at the backseat, and saw the shape of what looked like the shadow of a tie thrown carelessly in haste. She wondered where he had been before coming over to meet them... and in this case, her. Everyone would've made fun at him if he showed up the way he was dressed now. The Ishida she knew would've changed before coming over to meet them. He didn't like to include his other affairs with them, she knew. He must've been more out of it than usual to have slipped on this fact. Her brows quickly knotted in thought.

Automatically, her eyes travelled to his face. Tense, and tired. Then it all made sense. Seeing a worn out looking Ishida was strangely different, and Orihime was sure she didn't like what she was seeing, Uryuu looking the way he did. He seemed almost… weary.

But she knew it wasn't the right time to ask. Ishida never felt comfortable openly speaking about his problems. Orihime picked something about herself instead.

"I'm sorry, Ishida-kun... it's just that my head is still slightly spinning," she answered honestly, looking over at him and at the same time, laughing softly at herself. While she adjusted herself, trying to settle into the stiff seat of an unfamiliar car, she added, "Maybe you're right, I shouldn't have taken up Argentinian Specials tonight," she offered an apologetic smile she hoped he could see.

She noticed his shoulders slightly relax. _Was he really so wound up? I should've noticed earlier._

Uryuu's thoughts, on the other hand, went off in another direction, but a positive one this time. All thoughts of tonight's uncertainties quickly vanished as he heard her explanation. He inwardly breathed a sigh of relief for the silence that was broken. In his relief, he uttered the first thing that came to mind.

"After that entertainment over at Urahara's, I fully agree,... Princess," he joked... and stopped in aghast.

... Did he just say that? He groaned at himself and cringed. That sounded.. stiff. That was certainly an _outstanding_ piece of conversational material.

He heard her giggle. "Ishida-kun, please stop. You sound strange and funny. You're not gruff enough to pull it off like Grimmjow."

He had to admit he was curious about her blue-haired colleague. She bantered to him as if he was one of the gang. Despite the fact that he had the look of an absolute delinquent, towering and threatening, and if he was entirely being honest, was probably as well developed as Kurosaki, she treated him … well, like one of them. It was uncanny. It was odd to see her with Grimmjow slung across her shoulders for support. She shouldn't look like she belonged even anywhere near the vicinity of the blue-haired man, but in all honesty,_ she did_.

"So… 'Grimmjow'? Is he one of your colleagues over at Arrancar?"

"Yes! he's one of them! How'd you like him Ishida-kun?" Uryuu could hear the excitement behind the voice. Like a person who was proud about her friend. She was actually proud! What in the world would give her the idea that any of Arracar's employees were even worth of pride?

Curious, but cautious at the same time, he decided to be factual. "Well, there wasn't much to like, by the time I arrived, he was already lying down on the table."

Another giggle. Each time her responses made him a bit more curious. He continued to split an even amount of attention to her while he made sure he still kept his eye on the road, not wanting to miss anything, or get them into an accident.

"Oh well, yes, I guess. That really wasn't the plan. I was supposed to meet him, and I heard from Yoruichi you've been coming over there, so I thought maybe you'd have time to catch up, and maybe meet some of the 'goons' you thought it was working with at Arrancar."

Snickering evil grin? Towering Neanderthal? A potty mouth? Of course he was not a goon… NOT.

"He still looked like a goon, Inoue-san."

"Oh he's not that bad. I mean, I didn't expect him to come around with a bandage wrapped all over his head," she said brightly.

"Yes, you were muttering something about people hitting each other. That doesn't sound very safe to me."

She feigned a pout, but could still see her eyes gleaming with excitement. "They're decent around me!"

He paused. Was this normally how she talked about him, Tatsuki, Renji and all the others, with her other friends? But ... they're normal. Arrancar was not normal. He suddenly decided to be cautious about his response. "Well, it won't be long before they're fighting with each other around you. It's not safe," he pointed.

There was a few seconds of silence. He thought he may have made a mistake of being too honest about his comment, and sounded as if chiding her, but before he could retract his words, Ishida was cut off with a deflated sigh from the woman next to him.

"You sound just like Ulquiorra-san," came a mournful reply.

He stopped. He wasn't sure if that was a good, or a bad thing. The long pause before her response wasn't typically Orihime; Nothing curbed her enthusiasm once started. Her quick manner change made him suddenly more curious with the new name that gave Orihime a pause.

"Ulquiorra, Ulquiorra.. ah, now I remember," he added, deciding to get to the bottom of things. "Wasn't he the one you mentioned who got into the fight and started it all?"

"He was stopping them from fighting… he just did it the wrong way, that's all, I suppose," he heard her quietly laugh, oddly, as if there was some private joke involved. "He's a bit temperamental," she explained patiently.

He wasn't convinced. Nothing usually stopped her. "So having a person hit the other two helps the situation?"

"Well, it stopped them from fighting, didn't it?" Orihime chirped. He glanced at her, unsure of her thoughts. Her last comment sounded forced, but she looked like she just believed what she said.

The conversation wasn't going the way he was intending, especially not when she seemed to be defending the one who caused the situation in the first place.

He cleared his throat. This was familiar ground, but a ground that he knew he didn't feel entirely comfortable with. He often tiptoed around her when she insisted on the innocence of others. He always kept quiet, and was glaringly aware of what she was getting herself into. Her understanding, her excuses for others was not something he was patient with, but rarely did he show his opinions. He left that to Kurosaki. Surprisingly, despite their animosity towards each other, both of them felt the same way and protective about her. It was well and good that Ichigo was more vocal about his opinions; that meant he didn't usually have to voice out his.

But it was different now, like so many things tonight. Foreground. It was only him and he had to actively deal with it...

... But not now. Not yet. He had to deal with so many things tonight, and now wasn't the right time for change. Uneasy about the topic of conversation, he tried to switch the subject, instead. "I didn't realize the others weren't around when you invited me."

"Oh yes, I tried to tell you, but you hung up on me," he saw her nod beside him.

"You never asked me out before," he murmured softly to himself.

"Well, it wasn't really out, I was going to get you to meet Grimmjow-kun, but he started drinking, and then Urahara suggested taking on the specials. It wasn't kind of what I was expecting," she answered honestly, not realizing his last comment was not meant for her, nor catching on what he was trying to say.

Silence.

Unperturbed, she continued on. "I don't think I've ever ridden this car with you before, Ishida-kun."

Ishida uncomfortably cleared his throat.

"I had to take care of some of my father's business earlier in the evening and drive it somewhere."

"I didn't interrupt you, did I?"

"No, it's fine. I was on my way out, actually."

"It's kind of flashy, isn't it?"

He glanced at her and gave a small smile. "I suppose you can say that. It's not entirely the car of my choice, though."

She looked about. "Oh, don't say that. It's quite spacious," she jumped about her seat, wriggling herself as if trying to get into a comfortable position, "It's a bit stiff, but I think I could probably sleep here comfortably! ...uhm, I kind of roll around a lot in my bed."

Ishida chuckled. "Well, let me know if you are in need of accommodation, I can lend you the passenger seat for a few days."

"Do you think the leather will soften in time? It's a new car, is it?"

"Yes, it's a new one, Inoue-san."

She crinkled her nose. "Figures. It smells like a new car." She thought for a while. "I think I prefer your old one better. It was nice and cozy, even though it didn't have this much leg room," she declared.

"I'm sorry to disappoint, your highness, I don't think the old one will be coming out in the future."

"You're intentionally doing it again, Ishida-kun. I told you it doesn't suit you! Saying "Your highness"!" she chided in humor, before she immediately quieted down again, and took again a succinctly half serious tone, resolved in finding out why her friend looked so worn. "So you're saying this is your car now?"

"In a manner of speaking…" he trailed off.

"Do you like it?" she pushed, still smiling.

"It's actually not a matter of what I do, or do not like…" he answered in what seemed suspiciously in bitterness.

"Oh, … "

"... I see," she answered.

He paused at her response, and glanced from the wheel and eyed her quietly. "Do you?"

Uryuu saw her nod. "I think so…. But well, we just have to accept and make the most of what's handed to us, right? Right?" she urged on.

He closed and blinked his eyes slowly. Oh, Orihime. Always trying to see the brighter side of things.

"Most likely," he replied in a non-committal way, and shrugged.

Orihime stopped. The reply didn't fool her. Ishida was quiet most of the time, but she could always tell the difference when he was not comfortable with discussing something. It was his eyes. His eyes would slightly shrink, the edges almost tensing up when he was about to say a less than truthful comment. As if... he didn't entertain the thought of voicing out the truth, but didn't deem it appropriate to keep quiet and ruin the conversation. Add the obvious sarcasm with the snide remarks during his banters with Ichigo that she always saw with him, it was clear that he was unhappy about something out of his control right now. On occasions, she would also notice the same mix of expression, albeit in a much lesser degree, when he was posed with a question that he was not at liberty to say his mind, especially when he was in conflict with them.

It wasn't because she paid attention to Uryuu in minute details, but after years of knowing each other, she was sensitive in catching on slight nuances of her friends. She was a friend, after all. What use would it be if she only noticed the obvious signs?

"Think of it this way, you could pick up nice pretty girls with it?"

Ishida gave a quiet chuckle. "Is that how you think of me?"

"No, not really, but I'm just trying to make you feel better about it," she smiled, "Ishida-kun is far more chivalrous and gentlemanly than to be picking up girls in the streets," she pointed out, "and besides, you have standards higher than all the height of Tokyo Tower. I'm sure not just any girl would do."

"Well it's nice to know Inoue-san thinks so highly of me," he chuckled. "You may have to tone down the compliments a bit, I don't want to get a big head getting compliments from pretty girls saving steak ridden guys that I've just picked off the streets."

"Hey! No fair! I'm not just any girl! Take that back!" she threw a crumpled clump of tissue at her friend.

"Back down, Inoue-san. I concede."

Orihime smiled. She liked it when she got a chance to spend time with Ishida Uryuu personally… he was typically quiet and contemplative with others, but for some strange reason, she found it easier to talk to him when chance did bring just the two of them together. He was a solemn, private man by nature, and sometimes she thought, cautious to a fault, almost as if he was in a separate world from the rest of them. Responsibility weighed on him like a blanket. And having met his father a few times, she thought she understood a little of it - both men were almost carved from the same mold: strict, disciplined, having a strong sense of responsibility. Even down to the way he dressed on a daily basis – there was an orderly, proper sense of practicality and taste. Typically brash with his own gender, yet he treated women with a sense of respect, honor and a strange sensibility and sensitivity – she liked that about him. Despite the fact that her imagination and habit slid to the fantastical side, he still listened. He was, in many ways, a perfect gentleman. She could be her silly self and he would still treat her like a lady. She liked that a lot.

She heard him clear his throat again.

"Alright right, we're here." He drove into a non-descript parking lot. She looked curiously around, recognizing that they were not anywhere near the bright, flashy neon lights of the Karakura shopping district anymore. It was dark and quiet outside, and the only lights around were from a small, dark timber constructed structure across from where they parked.

Then she noticed the red, green and white motif, and recognized it immediately.

"Gaucho's?" she looked at him excited.

"I figured you wanted some gelato ice cream and cheesecake, Inoue-san."

"That's wonderful, Ishida-kun!" Without warning, Uryuu found himself being wrestled like a broken doll as she gave him an excited bear hug. Neither was it demure nor gentle, but what mattered to him was her enthusiasm.

Apparently, she wasn't off the fat high. Oh gods, and here he was, bringing her to an Italian ice cream parlour. Sugar high. He could feel himself blushing slightly. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. He tried to regain his composure and outwardly brought back his usual demeanor… in contradiction to the turmoil that was building up inside him.

He felt her still jumping up and down and attempting to squeeze the life out of his neck in sheer glee. He feinted a cough and turned to her.

"All right, hop off, Inoue-san. Since you've already had your dream dinner, we might as well make sure you cap it off with an appropriate dream dessert."

"Very funny, Ishida-kun. I like this place."

"I know," he replied firmly, but somewhere at the back of that reply, also softly. Of course he knew she did.

It was a universal fact that if Orihime disappeared in a busy street in the middle of a crowd, the first likely places to check where the ice cream shops, doughnut stands or cheesecake establishments within the vicinity. They were Orihime magnets. The highest attraction factor being the ice cream parlours, where four out of five chances, you would find her in, attempting to decide the best flavor for the day. Gaucho's was one of the finer ice cream establishments in Karakura – they have authentically made gelato, with a slight Japanese assimilation on it, having a few selections of slightly less than conventional flavors. It was certainly far from crowds, which in hindsight, he reminded himself, were good for quiet but comfortable dates. _Just like she wanted_, he repeated to himself. _Quiet and away from the crowds. NOT a date._

He looked at the bubbly woman beside him, and continued to push aside the idea of what was edging in his thoughts right after they dropped her friend off at his place, leaving the both of them in a car that he already acknowledged he was uncomfortable with: that tonight was definitely NOT a date. They had, after all, once as a whole gang, crashed into the place when he took them there, and while the ladies were all appreciative and satisfied, Kurosaki and Abarai made a small nuisance of themselves during one of their bantering sessions. Needless to say, he did not offer to bring the whole boatload of friends to the establishment anymore. He knew the owner, and it was one of the more embarrassing experiences he had outside their rowdy circle of friends. On two more occasions, he had brought Orihime and Tatsuki back here, merely to appease the former, for her ice cream cravings. The said girl was blissfully taking large scoops from a dish that reserved for a serving for two people, while a short-haired Tatsuki laughed at her friend's absolute lack of grace.

Uryuu tried to convince himself, minus her puking blue haired colleague tonight, this was pretty much the same thing.

This was, of course, denial to the infinite degree.

"What are you having?" she turned to him, asking.

"I think I'll just have coffee, if you don't mind. Sweet isn't really for me."

"But what's the point of coming here when you're not having any?" Orihime pouted.

"They equally have good coffee here, Inoue-san," he pointed out. "So its not much of a lost cause."

"Oh, alright."

"How about we go up to the counter look at their selection?"

"Really? Lets go!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him on to the counter. And during that time, he tried to remind himself despairingly: _Uryuu, this is not a date_.

* * *

This was not a date. It was madness.

He continued to stare at Orihime as she scooped the dark spotted black sesame gelato and popped it into her mouth. She then followed it with a snow-white coconut flavored one, and proceeded to dig in with a light red raspberry scoop.

Then she squealed in glee.

The evening innocently began when, after standing in front of the counter for five minutes, the auburn haired girl declared that she couldn't decide which flavor to order. But after a minute, she had picked what he thought were five random flavors, until after discovering much, much later, of the madness this innocent selection was about to ensue. The five gelato cups where placed onto their table together with his Italian roast coffee, where in a strange twist of humor and hindsight, was contained in a French press.

After pouring the coffee to his cup, he dropped a spoon of demerara sugar, and was still stirring when he noticed Orihime lightly humming to herself. Curiosity peaked, he kept himself by the sidelines, and continued to observe while she shuffled the cups in what he thought was a certain order and all the while still wearing a glowing smile. He was still watching her intently, his hands bringing up the steaming cup of black coffee to his lips, when _it_ started - Orihime suddenly brought up her spoon akin to a conductor's stance, tapped them on the wooden tables twice, held it up for a moment, and like a songstress nightingale, she burst into a rhythmic poem:

_**A black, ****E**** white, ****I**** red, ****U**** green, ****O**** blue: vowels, **_

_**I shall tell, one day, of your mysterious origins: **_

_**A, black velvety jacket of brilliant flies **_

_**which buzz around cruel smells,**_

_**Gulfs of shadow; ****E****, whiteness of vapours and of tents, **_

_**lances of proud glaciers, white kings, shivers of cow-parsley; **_

_**I****, purples, spat blood, smile of beautiful lips **_

_**in anger or in the raptures of penitence;**_

After the third verse, he was forced to sputter out his coffee in surprise for the poem that housed a rather morbid description of the first three vowels.

Too excited with her game, she continued on, scooping the sublime light green lime, and then extended her arms to pluck out a small taste of the baby blue blueberry gelato, continuing on:

_**U****, waves, divine shudderings of viridian seas, **_

_**the peace of pastures dotted with animals, the peace of the furrows **_

_**which alchemy prints on broad studious foreheads;**_

_**O****, sublime Trumpet full of strange piercing sounds, **_

_**silences crossed by Worlds and by Angels: **_

_–**O**** the Omega! the violet ray of his Eyes!**_

Then she paused and nodded to herself. Orihime was about to wave her spoon again when he interrupted her self-imaginary merry making. He had to, if he was going to keep his sanity. He was not planning to go through the rest of the alphabet that described them in ridiculous colors and matched with the level of morbidity that the first five vowels provided.

"What… what insane poem is that?" Ishida sputtered, his careful dignity going up in flames.

"It's not insane, Ishida-kun. It's a French poem called Vowels," she explained patiently, all the while still twirling her spoon with her slender fingers, up in the air, as if an orchestral tune was still playing at the background.

"It's morbid and strange!"

She pouted. "Does not, Ishida-kun. It's a poem I learned when I was young… it helped me learn English. Here, maybe you'll like the French version better!"

Without waiting for his consent, she raised her imaginary baton-spoon again in a dramatic fashion, and then, he assumed, started reciting the same thing, only in French. She did another round of professional conductor scoops, and at the same time, popping each gelato flavor into her lips as the poem went on.

He had to admit, hearing Inoue Orihime suddenly springing forth voicing French was the most ... interesting... thing he's ever seen. Never mind that he didn't understand a single thing, but his eyes suddenly found themselves glued at each syllable being uttered, her lips strangely and sensually twisting shape, causing stirrings of the most oddly embarrassing revelations that other parts of his body was giving approval of. It didn't help to see her enjoying her little game of sing song, as she recited the poem in French with a refined, rhythmic gusto of an enthralled poet. No male human being should ever have to suffer the exaltation of a nightingale in full song as the woman in front of him, even for a poem that had vowels as a subject matter.

He was still left in his stupor, when after finishing the French round, Orihime looked at Ishida squarely in the eyes and said, "très bonne? Ishida-kun? Oui? Oui?" Seeing no immediate reaction, she giggled.

"It's not much, but it's the only French I know. Ishida-kun? Ishida-kun?" she looked at her friend, who was staring at her in a strange manner. She waved her baton-spoon in front of her friend. He seemed to be somewhere else. She quickly picked up his small coffee spoon, and tapped his nose lightly, trying to get him out of his strange reverie. "Maybe you want to try it out yourself, Ishida-kun?"

"A..Absolutely not!" he stuttered, thinking that she was offering him to raise his spoon like a baton and burst into her idiotic poem. He didn't mind her _singing_ it, but he minded very much if _he_ had to. He would rather let Kurosaki beat him up than be caught in such a situation.

"But they're really quite good." She pushed the symbolism of shivers of cow-parsley onto her bespectacled friend in good humor, and added in all sincerity, "I promise this one is not morbid or strange. The coconut was quite good, honest. It's not too sweet. I think you'll like it."

He stared at the cup in front of him and glanced back at her smiling face. He sighed. He was probably never going to see ice cream the same way again. Trust Orihime to do that.

He looked down again at the threat of the snow-white gelato, trying his best not to think of a cow-parsley and the dirt beneath it, or avoid recollecting an image of black velvety jacket of brilliant flies.

Before he knew what was happening, Orihime had suddenly scooped up a spoonful, and edged it inches from his face, waiting for his next action. She looked like a ray of sunshine amidst the dim lighted corner they were in, beaming as if there was nothing wrong. There was nothing wrong in this picture, is there? … _Is there?_ He thought desperately.

The dancing flame of their candle lit table was mischievously taunting him, daring him to think otherwise.

There was nothing else to do but to accede to the her wishes. He squeezed his eyes shut and took the coconutty dessert straight into the linings of his tongue, feeling it slowly melting away on immediate contact of warmth, and similarly cooling the roofs of the onset of his dry, parched mouth. Mixed in with the aftertaste of his Italian roast, it was what the summary of his life with the woman seated in front of him: cool, exotic, and yet, so bittersweet.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" she chirped, oblivious to what has just occurred.

He nodded, stupefied in the least. She would have to be the most wonderful tyrant that ever existed in the history of humankind.

He coughed again. He was certainly coughing a lot tonight.

"Yes, mildly sweet," carefully offering his opinion.

"I thought so too. It's nice, no?"

He nodded frantically. _What have I gotten myself into?_

For a while, he sat in silence while she continued to hum to herself, enjoying her ice cream. It was a comfortable silence that he enjoyed. It was not everyday that he got to spend time with her, and even more so now that she had been away for a whole semester from school. The three of them would meet at least once per week – it wasn't very hard to see each other along the university's hall ways, they were studying in similar fields, after all. He found his time from school work much easier to handle during the times that they did meet. After she was gone, both he and Kurosaki still did hang out, but it wasn't the same without her bubbly laughter. In time they were concentrating more on their own work, and sometimes he thought, bordering on burnout.

She was sunshine. She brought it with her rather easily, and was quite infectious. He missed it. Looking at her, he realized that he hadn't felt so at ease for the past three weeks during the summer break.

"So, Ishida-kun, how have you been spending your vacation?"

"Mostly at home and in Karakura General Hospital, as always. I've been helping out with some of my father's administrative duties since senior high."

"How was it?"

"The hospital basically could run by itself with minimal supervision, but he had to attend a three day medical conference earlier this week, so I had to personally help manage some of the day to day operations. The other day I had to deal with some delayed supply deliveries. It is quite mundane, really," he elaborated in a no-nonsense tone. He didn't sound quite excited by it.

"He specialized in heart surgery, didn't he?"

"He rarely does any surgery work nowadays, except for special cases. If he does, I'm not really allowed to assist. He's basically relegated me to grunt work." He said in a tone that was half bitter, half weary. "Not much of a vacation really. Occasionally he brings me along to one of two pharmaceutical conference… its mostly a lot of drinking and sales people pitching their products."

"I'm sure you'd have learned a thing or two, Ishida-kun. Your father probably wants to start you slow."

"It's not really a medical experience to be working under your father, Inoue-san. You would have probably had a better time, if you actually decided to accept an intern post there," he pointed rather flaccidly. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were getting more out of your position at Arrancar, than I was with mine."

She chuckled.

"What's so funny, Inoue-san?"

"I actually like working there, Ishida-kun. They're a very interesting company."

"Seriously? Kurosaki and I were worried you were going to get hurt."

"Well, the workplace dynamic is quite challenging."

"Challenging, as in, brawl fights in the office?"

"It's not an everyday occurrence, no. I started out with Syazel, but he wasn't really managing me. But I took all your advice and tried to talk to the CFO, and he provided me with a decent budget to put up the team building. It was quite interesting to see how energetic my colleagues are. They gave me a hand on everything, and I managed to team up an intoxicated Grimmjow with one of my colleagues - Ulquiorra - for a wall scaling/paint ball session. He's quite proficient at scaling walls, so I decided to team him up with Grimmjow-"

Uryuu had an impressive image of her blue haired colleague drunk and trying to manage to scale up the wall.

" - the thing is, I guessed that Ulquiorra doesn't really like to lose, and I was right! So he ended up carrying Grimmjow on his back while scaling the wall –"

He had a hard time carrying her friend this evening to the car, and he wondered if he could try and scale a wall with the large, drunk man behind his back. Probably not.

"- But he tied himself to Grimmjow, so when they reached the top, Ulquiorra-san couldn't get rid of him and was hit with several enemy paintballs! I got a shot too… it wasn't very nice of me... but ... " she giggled, unable to suppress herself." ... it was pretty funny! " By this time, Orihime was laughing.

Ishida made a mental note not to get into Orihime's bad side. She could be unwoefully cruel hearing how she intentionally set things up so that this Ulquiorra suffer a cruel fate. Having been hit relentlessly by paintballs is a huge blow to the male ego. He could already imagine the sight of a poor guy covered wholly in paint.

"The poor guy. What did he do to deserve this?"

"It's not about deserving, or not. He's a perfectionist, I think. And a bit obsessive compulsive. And very very cold," she whispered to him conspiratorially, "I had a hard time trying to get him to interact with me and get a response, so I decided to throw an unknown factor into something he was proficient in, and see how he would cope with change."

He added 'unintentionally but extremely sadistic' to the list of unexpected things from Inoue Orihime. Definitely not recommended to get on her bad side.

"And how did he take it afterwards?" Uryuu inquired curiously.

"He-" and suddenly stopped. She remembered him taking a step towards her, his icy cold eyes looking down. And then she remembered having to move into his office the day afterwards, and she was locked in there ever since. Something she had to put up _again,_ next week.

"- took it as expected," she finished lamely.

Sensing the sudden mood change, he decided to press on. This was the time to change. He avoided discussing things with her, and giving his opinion. But nothing usually stopped her cheery disposition, yet in a short moment, he thought her eyes took on a depressing, clouded aura, almost a resigned note.

He knew sometimes she hid things from them. About how she really felt about certain things. They were easy to spot, after being around her for so long. He usually didn't comment much, because the gang were always there to keep things away from her, but it was different now. Very different. They weren't always around her anymore, not since she stopped going to Todai last semester. For the first time in their ten year friendship, he prodded her on and voiced out his concerns directly.

"He sounds like a dangerous man, Inoue-san. Maybe you should keep away from him," Uryuu warned.

Clueless to what he was saying, she continued. "Oh, but I can't do that. Our boss specifically wanted me to work on him."

Her answer irked him. _Was she listening?_

"Maybe you should step a bit further from him when you do need to assess him then," he pressed a bit further, trying to get her to listen, "So far you've told me he's temperamental, obsessive compulsive, perfectionist, cold, and by accounts, he sounds strong, if he managed to bring Grimmjow up a wall and tied in his back. I myself had a difficult time carrying Grimmjow myself. That is a dangerous mix, Inoue-san."

She glanced at Uryuu, a bit surprised at suddenly hearing his opinions tonight. But it didn't matter... he ... didn't understand. She always knew Uryuu was protective, even if he always kept quiet. If only she could step back, but she couldn't, even if she wanted to, being stuck in his office. But something was also nagging her. Ulquiorra was like puzzle you needed to solve. He was smart, calculated, disciplined, rational – but he also didn't add up. He didn't make any sense. His comments, his views, his impressions, even his eyes – it was all wrong in many ways. And the scars. After moving into his floor, she found herself glacing occasionally towards the Cuatro, and wondering about the scars… they bothered her. No one gets scars like that. They were very deep scars, and more than once she has wondered how he had gotten them.

She remembered how he was singlehandedly working on the gene sequencing matrices, and thought how pivotal it would be if he actually did learn to work with others. Ulquiorra was like a gem tucked away in a mess of the attic, uncleaned and covered in dust. A bit of polishing here and there, and place the gem in the right setting, and it could be the best discoveries in years.

She answered slowly. "I promise to be careful, Ishida-kun. I just agree with our boss though, he has a lot of potential."

"Everyone has potential, Inoue-san. It's just a matter if we want to nurture it," he eased back slightly, satisfied to hear the slight seriousness in her tone, "Take yourself as an example. You work hard for your studies. If you, or other people, didn't spend enough time, I doubt they would have gotten into Tokyo University."

"I know. But he is different. Did you know he was working on gene sequencing all by himself? Without a university degree, at all? He managed the first scan in three months. I bet he can even work faster if he tried. Most of the times he actually looks bored. Bored!" she laughed.

"He's probably slacking off when you saw him… I mean, how often do you see him anyway? If he was as private and inaccessible as you say he is, its not much, right? I mean, it's mudane in my father's office -"

"No, he always looks bored, Ishida-kun. Eight hours a day, five days a week. I sit across him, and there's nothing to do, so I just look at him -"

"What do you mean, eight hours a day? What do you do, hound him?" He was confused. Inoue was not prone to exaggerating. Sure, she had an extremely overactive imagination, but she tended to tell the truth when it comes to numbers. When she said eight hours, she usually meant eight hours.

"…. But there's not much to do in his floor…."

The man had his own floor? "His floor? I thought you were working with this Syazel guy that actually ignores you?"

"Yes, I was… but the boss wanted me to work on Ulquiorra-san, and I was transferred last Monday to his floor… and he's unresponsive and all, and so there's nothing to do sometimes, its always just me and him –"

His temper was rising fairly quickly after hearing this. "Just the two of you? Are you locked up in his office?"

"No, no… Its not really locked up.. I mean the place is quite big, its just the whole floor for ourselves, not counting the server room and the toilet, of course… so there's plenty of space…" she trailed off when she saw Ishida's face.

"Did I say something wrong, Ishida-kun?"

"Inoue-san, you are working at Arrancar Corporation," he pointed out, trying very hard to keep his voice controlled, but was having a difficult time anyway, "Contrary to what I told you before, I _know_ for a fact the guys there have records in the system. Not just one, but several records, likely. My father has crossed paths with them in the past, and it's not a pretty picture, from what he's told me. And now you're telling me you are locked in _alone_ in a whole empty floor with one of them, who seems to be emotionally unstable and in your words, and I am sure this is from your perspective, which I have to say, has always been forgiving, you described him as temperamental. Is there something wrong with that picture?"

"Uhm… he's not as bad as you think he is..." she whimpered.

Ishida was frustrated to no end. She was so dead set on giving excuses for other people, even when they were clearly in the wrong. He hated the fact that for years, he had to watch while she gave a string of excuses to people who were clearly not deserving. People who bullied her with her atypical hair, guys who tried to accidentally "bump" into her, whistles, hearing men talk about her in the locker room, ... just because they thought they could get away with it. Orihime never found fault in them, she _never_ got angry. So called people who tried to be friends with her because she was popular, then throwing her aside like a rag doll when they've gotten enough social status from being with her. If he and Kurosaki weren't around to keep them off, it would have been a lot worse. But the heartbreaking thing was that she took it all in with a smile, even though he knew she was clearly hurting. And most of all, he could not stand the way it turned out with her brother's 'accident'. She constantly kept smiling, her eyes saying otherwise, and just let things off.

It was all too much for him. He wasn't going to let her make excuses anymore. She forgave too much for him to handle...

... And everything spilled out before he knew what he was saying.

"You forgave the drunk man that collided with your brother's car!" He raised his voice in frustration, unaware that he had suddenly stood half way up his seat, almost looming over his friend. "I know, Inoue, my father told me! In my book, and the law for that matter, that was a criminal act. You should have pressed charges, but you didn't. You even tried to drop the charges when it went through! And you are telling me this person is 'not as bad as you think he is'?"

"That's.. that's… different…it was an accident…." she stammered.

"Your colleagues, and specifically, this Ulquiorra, sounds like an 'accident' waiting to happen. Tell me Inoue, tell me how it's different from the drunk man that murdered your brother," he challenged coldly.

A flood of guilt poured into Orihime. She missed her brother desperately, not hours earlier, feeling the weight of loneliness, and finally thinking that she had her emotions under control. And then her friend, the one she was worried about, the one in front of her, was reminding her of what's left of her right this moment. And telling her she was _wrong_. That it was somebody else's fault. Hearing murder. Floodgates of guilt poured out, one that was kept bottled up inside for months and months since her brother's hospitalization, and becoming worse each day since he passed away.

"My... my brother had leukemia long before he got into the accident! He could've cut himself while cooking, he could've fell while fixing our roof, something!" She croaked, tears stung in her eyes, and she knew her cheeks were dampening, but she couldn't stop, not after hiding everything in for so long, "And no one would know! He told me he was feeling weary for the past few months, and I just stayed in Todai and studied, not even bothering to come home for the breaks to check what was wrong with him. It's not the driver's fault! Its not his fault!… Its… its…"

She broke down to ragged sobs, unable to finish what she wanted to say.

Uryuu stopped.

When he saw her tears, he suddenly realized what he had horribly done. And he hated himself. He was now officially the same as the perpetrators that hurt Orihime. How was he different from all the others that callously made her cry? Even with pure intentions, he overstepped his bounds. He should've been better than that. He was supposed to be her friend. He had just effectively pushed her away and accused her because of his own problems, his difficulty coping with her. He lashed out because he couldn't stand and handle his own emotions. And even worse, he knew, Inoue would still be forgiving him in the end for something that he has messed up. It pulled at the depths of his being. She would forgive him, he knew… she wouldn't be Orihime if she didn't. He was utterly shameless, and he disgusted himself. He pulled up a full reverse to avoid making a bigger mess than what was already done. The eggs were thrown and broken, and there was no way he could put them back. All because he was impatient. He was _unforgiving,_ he never _understood_.

"I'm sorry, Inoue-san. I.. I didn't mean to say that…" his apology dragging him along pinnacles of sharp edged rocks. She hid her face away from him. She was vainly trying to hide her sobbing, but it was useless.

How do you fix something that was inadvertently caused by yourself?

After a short silence of indecision, Ishida awkwardly stood up, and slid to her seat and placed his arms around her. He felt her move up to his chest, and her sobbing quieting a bit. It didn't make him feel better. In fact, he felt worse.

"I'm really sorry, Inoue-san," he said, unsure of himself, "I was just really worried, I didn't want any harm to come to you. It wasn't right for me to bring up some things. Its not your fault…"

"Its.. its okay, Ishida-kun," she sobbed quietly, "I know you didn't mean it…" He was at loss for words as he felt her curl up further against him, hiding her face, her real feelings from the world. Despite what he just did, she still trusted him. And his arms automatically held on tightly, to reassure her.

And then he understood. For every ten people who didn't care, there was one who could be turned back to care, only if one gave them the chance. And Orihime was the ultimate forgiver. For that one out of ten who went wayward, her forgiveness and understanding taught them humility and patience, and gave them the chance to redeem themselves, properly, without coercion. It was a far better way than to throw people to jail to be judged.

And right then, he knew he was different, because he was one out of those ten.

He consciously wrapped his arms around her - this time in a firm, steady embrace, and if he were to think about it a little deeper, almost possessively.

When he was young, he thought he knew a keeper when he saw one, because unlike everyone else, he was not tempted by pretty pictures. Despite his stoic exterior, he always saw things past their superficial appearances, just like he knew Chad was a loyal friend, Kurosaki, despite their bantering, was solidly dependable, as well as the rest of the gang. And he thought he knew Orihime Inoue was a keeper. And here he was, all this time for ten years, thinking the girl in his arms was special. But he was always angry when she did what frustrated him the most,… and now he realized that it was that very same thing that made her exceptional. He realized now in those ten years of knowing her, he was utterly blind. She wasn't special. He looked down at the soft, flowing orange crowns on her head, and knew.

She was a keeper, alright; He was holding on to the best treasure humankind had to offer.

* * *

"Are you sure you will be alright, Inoue-san?"

He looked at her as she was about to open the door to his car. During their way back, she settled down and started to make jokes about being overly dramatic, but he didn't mind anything. He was just glad he had the chance to drive Orihime home, unsobbing, and tear-free.

"I will be fine, Ishida-kun. Don't worry," she said, flashing her brightly lit trademark smile at him. He supposed it was to be reassuring. It worked, somewhat anyway.

_But not enough._

Before she could step out, he grabbed her hands. She looked back to him with question in her eyes.

He tried to muster as much seriousness as he could manage, and coming from him, a specialist in looking serious all the time, every time, it was strangely determined. But he wanted to make absolutely sure she understood.

"Inoue-san. I'm really sorry about how I acted tonight."

It was almost a plead. He knew it, and he knew that she knew.

He saw her brown, doe eyes soften, like the colors of pools of fresh earth dug out, just before the morning dew disappears. He used to love looking at how they flit and change moods that accompanied her crazy ideas, but now more than ever. He needed her to understand.

"I know, Ishida-kun. I understand. I will be fine," she answered back softly, and squeezed his hand reassuringly.

Right then, he knew things were going back, to be all right between them, and if he had any say, maybe he can make it even better. He smiled. He knew the smile reached his eyes. He never felt better in his whole life.

"Okay," he responded back to her, and a steady nod. And he let go of her hands.

He watched as walked up to her porch and fidgeted for the house key from her bag. When she went in and he heard a soft click of her doors locking, he pressed the button to roll up the car windows, and slowly backed out of the driveway. Soon afterwards, he recalled what he was considering earlier, during their drive back to her place. It was imperative he did, for his peace of mind.

For his sanity's sake, he was going to have to find out exactly how 'temperamental' this Ulquiorra is.

* * *

**AN:** Rofl... Poor Ulquiorra now has two people on his heels. And to think he hasn't done any moves on Orihime yet... *grin*

I loved this chapter for the fact that even though Ulquiorra isn't physically here, he was still in a large chunk of the sections, and even managed to drag both Uryuu and Orihime into an argument. What the heck! No ulquihime romance yet and already dominating the story? Ulquiorra, you are _good_. *snicker*

**Next:** Orihime comes back to the office, determined to face her oppressor. But not before she falls sick... and gets a strange sort of pampering.

Reviews please.. yes I know its odd to have Uryuu's POV, but I'd always like to get your opinion! Please share! Also, I will try to get the next chapter out as soon as possible.


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